A Dementor's Kiss - Phan (etc)
by isthisjustphantasy
Summary: Phan, kickthestickz and multiple youtubers at hogwarts! Dan Howell, a shy third year slytherin, is befriended by fifth year hufflepuff Phil Lester. Dan is quiet and alone, with little faith in his abilities; but with the comfortable and kind-hearted Phil he will learn to flourish in the wizarding world. This is a chaptered story with each chapter a oneshot in its own right.
1. Owl Post

It was two in the morning and Phil was, once again, in the library – engrossed in a book about Caribbean mer-people. Some of his classmates thought his dreamy state was brought on by the dirigible plums he kept on his windowsill, but in reality sleep deprivation played the biggest part. He glanced guiltily up at the hourglass on the wall.

He had been thrown out of the library two hours ago by Madam Prince (who ushered him angrily off to bed); but Phil had long since mastered the art of tiptoeing back in after hours, and his housemates liked him well enough not to spill on him. The library was peaceful at night. Some of the books snored gently, the dry air fluttering their pages. If he listened carefully he could hear the hoots from the owlery. The fire was burning low in the grate, warming his orange socks. He'd had to put them out twice already, too caught up in his book to notice when they caught alight until the black, acrid smoke reached his nose. The flames were a flickering turquoise that didn't burn his skin but scorched angry black holes in his less fortunate footwear.

He turned a page, enjoying the quiet crinkle of thick paper sliding over itself in the silence.

His tranquillity was broken abruptly however by a bang and a crash as the library door exploded inwards in a tumble of rubble. A dark haired slytherin stood framed in the doorway, frozen in horror as a fine layer of grey dust settled on his pyjamas.

"I think someone may have heard that." Phil said conversationally.

The boy swore at him, jumping forward and spinning round to attempt with some success to clear up the mess and set the door back in its frame. After a moment of watching him struggle, Phil got up to help. Together, they stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"Ah." Phil said. "I think, possibly, it was supposed to go the other way up."

The boy swore again, flushing angrily. Phil sniggered. "Personally, I use the back door. It doesn't have any protection on it. But then again, I don't get quite the entrance you managed."

"Shut up." The boy mumbled, pushing his floppy brown fringe out of his eyes with a huff. "I was in a hurry okay? I have an essay due in tomorrow that I should have handed in last week and I completely forgot until just now. I had a nightmare that McGonagall turned me into a chicken and served me to first years coated in batter."

Phil laughed as the skinny boy shuddered.

"What year are you in?" Phil asked, taking pity on his lanky frame and baggy blue pyjamas.

"Third."

"I'm in fifth. Trust me, I know she seems pretty scary but she's not actually going to transfigure you into a table. More likely she'll just make you write lines or something. Seriously, sleep is more important. Also not blowing yourself up." Phil smiled.

Dan ignored the second remark. "I already have detention from Snape though!" His voice was high with anxiety. "He hates my guts. He'd love any excuse to get me into even more trouble than I'm already in. And anyway, I don't wanna piss McGonagall off. Preach what you practice, you're still awake too. I just need to get this finished. Thanks for helping with the door, I'll, er, leave you to sort that out."

Phil tsked. "Honestly. Hopeless Slytherins."

"Stupid Hufflepuffs. Sticking the door back on upside down."

"That was you!" Phil exclaimed.

"No, that was you trying to be helpful. I had it just fine until you had to butt in."

"Really? That's not what it looked like."

"Stop distracting me. I've got a foot to write by nine and I don't know anything about intra-species transfiguration. Go fix the door." A grin had slipped onto the boy's face despite himself, and he turned away – striding swiftly through the rows of books, his pyjamas billowing majestically in the wind behind him.

Phil rolled his eyes and turned to the door with a chuckle.

* * *

x

* * *

"Are you really stuck?"

Phil's voice made the boy start, and he knocked over his ink pot – black ink pouring viscously all over the rows of messy scrawl. He cursed, trying to mop it up with his sleeve and turning angrily to Phil. "Jesus. What am I going to do now?! Such a Hufflepuff!"

"Sorry," Phil sighed. "I was just trying to help – I was going to say what you'd written was wrong anyway. Intra-species is different animals in the same species. You're writing about inter-species, changing it from one animal to another."

The boy moaned loudly, burying his face in the mess of parchment and ink. "I'm so screwed," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the table. "I haven't got a clue what to write about."

"I've already done that essay," Phil said gently. "Let me help."

"It's like three in the morning. You need to go to bed." The boy shook his head.

"What's your name?" Phil asked.

"Dan. Seriously, don't mess yourself up just for some stupid scrawny third year." Dan mumbled, his eyes dropping.

"I'm Phil, nice to meet you. And don't be silly, I'm going to help you. I'm a Hufflepuff, remember. It's our job." Phil grinned, reaching forwards tentatively to ouch Dan's shoulder reassuringly.

Dan flinched, his eyes narrowing, but he sighed. "Are you sure? I'm not going to try too hard to get rid of you, I could really use the help."

"I wasn't sleepy anyway." Phil grinned.

* * *

x

* * *

"Um, Phil… Wake up Phil. It's time for lessons. You need to wake up."

Dan was still in his pyjamas and his eyes were heavy with sleep. He tugged uncertainly at Phil's robes and Phil stirred, glancing groggily up at Dan with bleary eyes.

"What time is it?" He said, his voice hoarse.

"Eight-thirty." Dan yawned, rubbing his eye with his fist and clutching a roll of parchment to his chest.

A small sixth year girl walked past with her bag, surveying them curiously as she settled down on a table with a cup of steaming coffee.

"Um. You've got ink on your face," Phil sniggered. "Just – there. And there. Also there. You might want to take a bath actually."

"Oh God," Dan moaned. "I really have to run. Thank you so much, Phil. And sorry I kept you up all night." Dan rubbed sheepishly at his face, trying to hide the blush that was creeping into his cheeks from the girl giggling at him across the room.

"S'alright," Phil yawned. "I have a free after charms. I can curl up in front of the fire and have a nap."

Dan smiled, biting his lip. "Bye then. Thanks. For the door as well."

"Crap!" Phil gasped. "I forgot to fix the door! That's probably why there's barely anyone in here, oh my god."

Dan's eyes widened in horror. "Right. Well, I'll leave you to deal with that then. Give my love to Madam Prince." With that, Dan set off towards the back door at a sprint.

Phil groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Bloody Slytherins." He muttered under his breath.

Across the room, the small girl stifled a giggle.

The Great Hall was packed for lunch and Phil sat down with a yawn on a bench full of his friends.

"Have you been up all night reading again, Philip Lester?" Carrie scolded. Her soft curls tumbled down to her shoulders in a golden waterfall. Both fifth year Hufflepuffs, they'd been friends since the first day they'd clutched terrified at one another before sorting.

"I was doing a good deed," Phil protested. "Helping a little third year with his homework."

Carrie narrowed her eyes. "Phil. How much sleep did you get?"

"A couple of hours maybe…" Phil ducked expertly out of the way as Carrie made to hit him with a heavy book.

"I hope you didn't do it all for him. You're too much of a pushover Phil, they'll never learn that way." she frowned.

"No! I just helped. The poor kid was terrified, he nearly set the whole library on fire trying to break in."

"A bit like you did in your first year?" Carrie raised her eyebrow.

"We don't talk about that." Phil grinned.

Carrie sighed dramatically. "You're too good, Phil. You're going to make yourself sick. Oooh, post."

Hundreds of owls descended on the great hall with a beating of wings and rustling of feathers, making their way to their owners and hooting dolefully. Phil's owl, a small tawny named Eric, alighted in his sandwich and gave him an affectionate nip. Phil offered him a bacon rind in return and slipped the small package from his legs. A letter from his parents and a photo of his little brother waving up at Phil from his birthday cake. Phil smiled fondly.

It wasn't until Carrie leaned forwards to retrieve her own parcel that Phil spotted a familiar face in a far corner of the hall, staring wistfully up at the cloud of owls circling amongst the candles. Dan was sat on his own. As Phil stared, Dan turned and gave him a cautious smile before blushing and looking down intently into his soup.

Phil bit his lip, but his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Chris, broomstick over one arm and a red and gold scarf wound proudly around his neck.

"Alright ladies?" He grinned, ruffling their hair. "Has Phil been up all night trying to make a love potion again? Or is he just going for the undead look? I've always thought you'd make a hot vampire, Phil."

"It was one time." Phil mumbled, his face burning.

Carrie jumped to his rescue with a devilish grin. "Talking of love Chris, is that a certain dreamy Italian Ravenclaw I see just behind you?"

Chris straightened up as if he'd been electrocuted, spinning round to glance not so subtly over his shoulder.

PJ Liguori stood behind them, engrossed in conversation with a group at the Ravenclaw table. He had transferred from an Italian academy three years earlier with not a word of English, so Chris had decided to communicate his feelings through song.

"What was it the little cupid sang right in the middle of the Great Hall, at breakfast, in front of the _whole school_?" Carrie continued, enjoying herself. "Your eyes are as green as a fresh prickled toad? Was that it? My, Chris, you have a way with words."

"Shut up shut up," Chris hissed. "Might I remind you he still doesn't know it was from me and I'd like to keep it that way, thanks."

"Oh dear," Carrie sighed. "My boys. You're both so completely hopeless with the whole love thing. What am I going to do with you?"

"We all know you fancy Phil." Chris said harshly.

Phil and Carrie turned away from each other awkwardly.

"Har har," Carrie muttered. "Very funny."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Budge up a bit. If I sit just right I've got a beautiful view of that glorious Italian behind."

Grudgingly they moved apart to accommodate Chris's lanky frame.

"How's it going with Suzie then?" Chris asked Phil.

Phil shrugged. "Same old really. She was complaining that I smell like soil all through charms this morning."

Carrie snorted. "You don't smell like soil, Phil," she sniffed his hair. "Okay, maybe a little bit. But it's a woody smell. It's sweet as well. You smell warm. Like cinnamon." Carrie fell silent suddenly, seeming to realise she'd said too much.

"You spend too much time in the greenhouses," Chris interjected wisely. "You and your bloody plums. And all the other weird crap you're growing in there."

"Plants are nice," Phil smiled. "They're not as annoying as people. Mainly because they don't speak. And none of them are called Chris."

Chris ignored him. "I reckon you should break it off with Suzie. It's clearly not going anywhere, you haven't even kissed her yet for God's sake. Now Carrie here, Carrie is a fine specimen of a woman."

"Shut up, Chris." Carrie muttered.

"I'm serious!" Chris carried on. "You two would be great together, you just don't see it. You're like an old married couple already. I tell you I arrgh!"

Chris was cut short in a strangled yelp as a certain tall Italian with curly hair and sparkling green eyes leant over their table and flashed them a heart melting crooked grin. "Hi guys," his voice was low and melodic like smooth, dark, Italian chocolate. "Mind if I take this bread basket? We're all out."

Chris opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

"Yeah, go for it." Carrie sniggered.

Amidst their stifled giggles, Phil caught sight of Dan again on the other side of the hall. He was staring at the three of them with that same, wistful look in his eyes. As he noticed Phil looking he blushed quickly, looking away and then getting to his feet and walking quietly out of the Hall. Phil watched him go.

* * *

x

* * *

"Ave insidium apricot something something ball sack."

Phil sniggered as Chris kneaded his forehead in frustration, his wand pointing limply at a determinedly inanimate quill.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes."

"No, really? And there I was convinced Merlin named a motion spell after his left testicle." Carrie grinned. They were lounging comfortably on a worn pink sofa in front of the Gryffindor common room fireplace, their feet resting dangerously close to the quill Chris was trying to animate. "What exactly is it that you're trying to do to the poor feather anyway? That eagle didn't get plucked to have obscenities yelled at its feathers, you know."

Chris sighed. "I just want it to sing the national anthem in a Scottish accent. Is that too much to ask?"

Phil and Carrie both laughed, and as they did Phil's eyes strayed to the window. A figure was battling slowly through the thick snow, making his way towards the forbidden forest. He was tall with brown hair and his robes hung awkwardly off his slender frame.

* * *

x

* * *

The next morning, Phil made a point of looking over at the Slytherin table for Dan. He was sat in his usual place, at the very far corner, on his own. Phil couldn't help notice the wishful (if not hopeful) expression on Dan's face as he glanced up at the post owls.

Eric didn't have anything to report, but he'd popped in to visit and now nestled comfortably against Phil's chest, helping himself to cereal. Phil ran his thumb gently over his feathery head, still watching Dan. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Eric, stop eating my cereal," he murmured, "I've got work for you."

* * *

Phil wished he could have taken a picture of the moment Eric landed in front of Dan with a hastily scribbled roll of parchment taped to his leg. Eric puffed out his chest, standing to attention. Dan glanced up and down the table, clearly convinced the small owl had got the wrong recipient, then tentatively reached out to read the name on the scroll. His face a picture of disbelief, he untied the parchment and flattened it out to read (paying no attention to Eric, who was now enjoying Dan's unattended orange juice). Even from across the hall, Phil could see Dan's cheeks redden and a smile creep across his face. It had been nothing special, and Phil had simply signed it with 'your friend', but clearly it had been a welcome surprise to Dan as almost immediately he began scribbling a response on the back of the parchment. He tied it back to Eric's leg and watched him keenly.

Almost too late, Phil realised his plan. He was watching to see which student the small owl returned to. Quickly, Phil gathered up his bag and slipped quietly out of the hall – not ready to blow his cover just yet. He waited by the marble staircase for Eric to find him and eagerly opened up the scroll.

x

_Dear 'friend',_

_Thank you very much for your letter. Your owl is cute. Now I'm sending him back to you to find out who you are._

_Dan_

_x_

Phil grinned. As long as he didn't get up and follow Eric out of the door, his plan would have failed. Already Phil was settling down on the bottom step to write his reply, determined to be more careful this time. He would send the letter after potions, he decided. That way Dan wouldn't be able to trace him.

_x_

_Dear Dan,_

_Nice try. I'm a little bit ahead of you though. Since you replied to me however, that makes us pen pals, and now we're pen pals you have to tell me about yourself. And maybe I'll tell you a bit about myself in return._

_Your friend_

x

Phil got the reply halfway through history of magic. _Keen_, he grinned to himself.

_x_

_Oh great and mysterious 'friend',_

_What do you want to know? This is a bit unfair, you already know my name but I don't know anything about you. Since you are entertaining me however (and your owl is cute), I will provide you with the basic facts. My name is Dan Howell. (If you know my surname already I may have to report you for stalking.) I'm muggleborn, from a delightful little town called Wokingham. I'm Slytherin's only 6ft 14 year old and I was birthed into this world on the 11__th__ of June. Your turn – give me some clues!_

_Dan_

x

Snow fell thickly on the grounds, covering the mountains with layers of glittering white.

_x_

_Dear Dan,_

_Muggleborn and a Slytherin? That's pretty cool. How is life over in snake land anyway? (This is a clue. I'm not in Slytherin.) I'm 6'2, I feel your pain. The owl's name is Eric, but he also responds to feathery idiot, Mr Stupid and Your Majesty. I think he likes you. I am, in ironic contrast, a pureblood Hufflepuff and I was born on the 30__th__ of January. I like rock music and goblin death metal._

_Oh great and mysterious friend_

x

The snow fell like a rain of stars, swirling and dancing in the lights that streamed out of the castle windows.

_x_

_Anonymous,_

_Muggleborn so I didn't know anything about Slytherin house. If I had, I would have probably begged the sorting hat not to put me there. I didn't know anything about the reputation and It's awful. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been here three years and I still don't have any friends. Honestly, I'd rather be a fucking Hufflepuff – at least they all seem to talk to each other. Over here it's just clique after clique. There's the 'my parents are death eaters' clique which seems to consist of half the house. Then there's the 'my parents are rich and very important' group and their customary followers: the 'I wish my parents were rich and important and maybe if I hang around with you I will be instead' lot. Then there's just the absolute slimeballs. They're not all as horrible as everyone makes out though, some of them are pretty kind and stuff. But making friends isn't high on any of their agendas. There's a lot of introverts and people who just don't want or need company. I'm introverted, I know I wouldn't be great with absolutely loads of friends, but just one would be nice._

_Eric is cute then, I like 'Your Majesty'. I wish I had an owl. I still listen to muggle music, death metal sounds good though – maybe you can recommend me some good bands?_

_Sorry, I had a bit of a rant there. Your turn._

_Dan_

x

Phil bit his lip. This scroll was considerably thicker than usual, and he tied it carefully to Eric's leg.

_x_

_Dear Dan,_

_I've already told you – I'm your friend, seriously – if you ever want to rant I'm here and I'm listening. Once you've figured out who I am, you're welcome to come sit with me if it gets a bit lonely over there. I can't imagine what it would be like, I'm just a Hufflepuff but I wouldn't switch houses for the world. Everyone looks after each other here. I'm introverted too though. I like to read a lot, especially late at night when there's no one else in the library. (Have you guessed who I am yet? I'll keep going.) I'm in my fifth year. My friends are great but they're mostly extroverts, so having some alone time is good, it helps me recover. Gardening's good too. _

_You don't know any wizard music? What have you been doing all these years?! Start with the Weird Sisters – 'into the night' is good, also 'do the hippogriff'. They're pretty mainstream so it's a good place to start your journey, god knows how you've survived on muggle music – I've heard that stuff, it sounds like banshees gargling polyjuice potion or something. I mean it though, when I say we're friends. I realise I've kind of forced myself on you so don't feel like you're obliged to reply or anything, it's giving Eric a good work out though – god knows he needs it. _

_Are you going to the match tomorrow? My friend's a chaser for Gryffindor so we'll be there to cheer him on against your lot. Do you fly? I fell off my first lesson and have been too scared to get back on a broom since. Shh though, I've told all my friends I get air sickness._

_Your friend, the expert door fixer._

x

The four long tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted sky (today, a clear and vibrant morning blue). Phil sat down at the Hufflepuff table next to Carrie, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. He had only just started his cereal when there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping packages or letters into the chattering crowd. Phil held his breath, pushing his bowl to one side and starting intently up into the mass of feathers to try and pick out Eric.

A parcel landed in his cereal with a splash and he reached for it eagerly, only to realise that it belonged to the gangly sixth year next to him and to awkwardly pass it over, dripping milk on his robes. Suddenly, Eric was in front of him, hooting in welcome. Eagerly, Phil snatched the offered letter out of his beak and folded it open.

_x_

_Dear… Phil?_

_I hope I got it right otherwise this will be really awkward._

_Thank you though, everyone always goes on about how kind the Hufflepuffs are but I always thought you guys were just wimpy and over romantic. You're actually really, _really_, (and unnecessarily) nice. Yes, I fly – that's actually what I'm doing while you're reading. I've never told anyone this before but I like to fly over the forbidden forest mainly. You see some pretty cool things and for someone brought up without magic it's all the more amazing to see all the other magic things happening that you wouldn't normally see in school. Like last night, probably the best night I've ever had at Hogwarts. I was skimming the trees really low looking for centaurs as they sometimes stop and talk to me. I saw this strange silver light glowing up from a glade so I landed a little way off and walked up, thinking I might see a unicorn and I was right – you're never going to believe this, but I watched a unicorn give birth. It sounds a bit weird when I say it like that. Honestly, it was the most amazing and beautiful thing ever – there were centaurs keeping guard and all sorts of animals watching from the trees because it was just so, magical I guess. The baby was tiny. It looked like molten silver all shimmering and with tiny little spindly legs and a stumpy horn. Afterwards, the mum let everyone in the glade go up one by one and have a look at the baby – not too close obviously. I wasn't going to because I felt like I was gate crashing a bit, but one of the centaurs (some macho dude called Bane who's probably the closest thing I have to a friend. Wow. Horse dudes, I'm embarrassing.) pushed me forwards and told me it would be disrespectful not to pay my respects after watching._

_Sorry about all that, I just haven't been able to tell anyone what with the no friends thing and it's just been this amazing thing inside of me that I really wanted to share so you're the unlucky recipient. You probably think I'm so weird now._

_Thank you for the music recs, I think I've heard of them – they're the hairy ones, right? Yeah I'm going to the match, I'll probably glare at you from across the stadium for supporting the enemy._

_Thanks a lot, seriously having someone to talk to makes my day. You really don't have to do this though, befriend some awkward third year because you feel sorry for him. I'm not complaining though, you're ridiculously nice._

_Dan_

x

Phil finished reading with a smile and glanced over at the Slytherin table. Dan was watching him nervously, and as he caught Phil's eye he flashed him a tentative grin. Phil's smile widened into a beam and Dan almost visibly relaxed, blushing into his green and silver scarf.

* * *

x

* * *

They wrote to each other for four weeks, every day without fail. Despite the age and house gap, they had a lot in common. They saw things in the same way. They liked the same music and a lot of the same food, and they both supported the Hollyhead Harpies quidditch team.

Phil was curled up in a squashy armchair writing a reply to Dan's latest letter when he was interrupted by a tapping at the window. Eyes wide with surprise, he opened the catch to let Eric flop inside with a shiver. That was strange, they'd never sent more than one letter to each other at a time before getting a reply. Curiously, Phil straightened out the parchment.

_x_

_Phil,_

_You have to help me, I'm seriously failing transfiguration. I spent all morning trying to change a beetle into a button but all I did was give the beetle a lot of exercise. That's barely even second year level, and McGonagall's threatening to move me down into her first year class. I think I'd rather die. I know it was a while ago, but you seemed really good at the theory at least and it's not like I have any other friends I can turn to – please, please will you help me out? I get it if you're busy, seriously you don't need to waste your time on my stupidity but like, if you've got nothing on, I'm dying a little bit._

_Sorry,_

_Dan_

_x_

He really did look like death when Phil turned up to the library two hours later, textbook under one arm. Dan was sat at a table in a far corner under a high window, pouring over a book with tired, straining eyes. His skin was paler than usual and he had dark purple shadows under each eye. He seemed almost to be shivering, and Phil approached cautiously.

"Um, Dan?"

Dan jumped, spinning round to spot Phil and then looking down suddenly, awkward and shy all of a sudden despite weeks of communications.

"Wow. It's weird to be talking to you properly, you know, after all this time. Hi. You look terrible." Phil smiled gently.

Dan looked up again, reassured by Phil's relaxed tone. "Hey," he said shyly. "Thank you so much for this, for coming to help. Um. I don't know where to start really. I'm bad at everything."

"Don't worry about it," Phil grinned. "Shall we start with the basics then? So I know what you're doing wrong?"

"Like I said, pretty much everything. But yeah. Basics. Okay." Dan took a deep breath.

Suddenly, without thinking, Phil pulled Dan into a hug. Maybe it was the defeated slump in his shoulders, or the eyes that seemed to be threatening at any moment to brim over with tears; but for whatever reason Phil held the skinny boy tight as though he could wrap his whole body around Dan and protect him from the world.

"Don't worry," Phil said. "You're going to be okay."


	2. Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest

_In which Dan persuades Phil to overcome his fear of flying_

* * *

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn, Phil expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They slipped behind a tapestry and down a hidden passage way, emerging in a gallery full of suits of armour. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooing out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us in trouble." Phil pleaded in a hushed whisper.

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around after midnight? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Dan, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a locked door.

They could hear footsteps already, running towards Peeves's shouts, and Phil hurriedly drew his wand and whispered, '_Alohamora!_'

The lock clicked and the door swung open – they darted through and pulled it to as quietly as they could behind them.

"Okay," Phil whispered, "slight deviation from the plan. We're in the third floor corridor. You weren't here, but it was closed off a while back ago due to a nasty incident with a three headed dog. I'm not quite sure what happened to the dog in the end, but I suggest we proceed with caution. We should be able to come out the other side and make it out yet, as long as Peeves keeps Filch distracted for a while."

They stole silently down the corridor, ears alert for the slightest whisper of three headed panting. Luckily it seemed Fluffy had been relocated somewhere tropical and they made it to the other end with all important limbs still firmly attached.

Outside, the night air was crisp and fresh. A touch of frost lay on the ground and, although the spring days had turned sunny, the nights were still cold enough to draw their breath out in a cloud in front of their faces. Phil was glad of his winter cloak. He wished he'd worn gloves too as he rubbed his red hands together and plunged them deep into the folds of black fabric.

Dan squinted into the darkness. "We need to veer left so the castle lights don't catch us, just in case anyone's looking out the window. Avoid that tree though. I discovered its hospitality in my first year. I told Madam Pomfrey that I'd fallen down the stairs, but I don't think she bought it. Something tells me she's had to patch up a fair few whomping willow victims in her time." he muttered, leading the way and clinging close to the shadow at the base of the castle walls. "I keep my broom inside a hollow tree. It's a bit weird I know, but breaking into the broom shed every evening would be a nightmare and I can't really pretend to be sleepwalking if I'm caught in the corridors with my broom over my shoulder. Also, just to let you know, I've never tried to put more than one person on it. I think you're supposed to get special brooms for that. We might die. Just a disclaimer, all activities are undertaken at your own risk and I will not be held accountable for the outcome. Really I should make you sign something."

Phil grinned as he followed silently behind Dan, his feet pattering on the damp ground.

The tree Dan had chosen was tall and gnarled, with so many branches coppicing off from the stump that it was almost impossible to see into the hollow centre or even to know that it existed at all. Even in broad daylight the broomstick would have been invisible from the outside, and if you were to clamber in towards the centre it would had appeared as just another branch. Dan stood on his tiptoes to retrieve it with a tenderness about the way he cradled it in his arms. He turned apprehensively to Phil.

"If you get scared just tell me and I'll land, okay?" He whispered.

Phil nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was glad of the dark because he was sure his skin had paled substantially. Trembling slightly, he mounted the broom behind Dan.

"Oh, er, you'll have to put your hands round my waist to hang on," Dan muttered, "Is that okay? Sorry,"

"Yeah it's fine," Phil replied, making a conscious effort to stop himself clinging to Dan and squeezing till his eyeballs popped. "Tell me if I'm holding on too tight okay? I might get scared."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Dan reassured him. "I'll fly really low in the trees to start with. Slow too, so if you did fall it wouldn't hurt. We won't go higher unless you want to. You ready?"

"What, are we going right this second?!" Phil panicked.

"Well unless you wanna spend the next half hour just sitting here then yeah, now?"

"Oh, uh, okay," Phil squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'll count down. Squeeze as tight as you need okay, don't worry about me. I'll just die quietly and then we'll crash and you can be back on the ground."

"Thanks." Phil muttered.

"Three,"

"Oh god."

"Two,"

"Dan, I'm not sure if I can-"

Dan pushed off gently, a rush of cool air pushing past their faces and pulling their hair tight against their scalps. For a moment, Phil forgot to breathe, but at a nudge from Dan he slowly let out the breath he was holding. They were floating through the trees just a few feet off the ground, Phil's toes skimming the moss floor. He blushed, his fear seeming a little silly now. In front of him Dan grunted.

"Phil, you okay? If so I don't suppose you could give me some light? I need both hands for steering but it's a lot darker in the trees. You will have to let go with one hand though."

"If I don't, will we hit a tree?" Phil asked.

"Almost definitely."

"Right. Okay, I'm sure I can do this. We're not going very fast I can let go with one hand."

"Yes, you can. You can do it right now please."

"…"

"Phil, you're still holding on and I still can't see anything."

"I know."

"Phil…"

"I will take my right hand off your waist."

"Phil."

"I will."

"You're right, you will do it now please."

"Yes."

"Phil."

"I'm doing it I'm doing it!"

"I literally can't see anymore. I might as well shut my eyes."

"No!"

"I'm gonna shut my eyes."

"No! I'm doing it I swear I'll do it."

"Left eye closed…"

"No Dan don't be stupid I'm-"

"Right eye closed…"

"Dan! Dan open your eyes right this minute Dan I DAN WATCH OUT FOR THAT – LUMOS!"

The forest was flooded with cool blue light and Dan's eyes snapped open, bulging as he swerved violently – narrowly avoiding a heavy oak. He caught his breath. "Well done, Phil." He grinned.

Behind him, Phil was breathing heavily. After a moment, he seemed to have regained his composure, holding his wand steadily out in front of him.

"I dislike you." He muttered.

"I didn't have a choice, we would have crashed eventually," Dan grinned. "You did it though. See, it's not so bad. I'm very proud of you."

"Huh. I guess it's not so bad. We're not very high up though." Phil huffed.

"No, we're not," Dan said, amused. "If you wanted to stop at any point all you had to do was put your feet down."

"Well, yeah…"

Dan laughed. "I can see now. Wanna go faster?"

Phil took a sharp intake of breath. There was a brief pause. "Yeah, alright."

"Alright." Dan agreed.

He sped up gently. They couldn't get much speed up with two of them anyway and despite his giggles he didn't really want to scare Phil. The leaves whipped at their faces, but softly – more like a caress of waxy feathers. The rustling of the wind in the blackened canopy and the blur of blue and purple trees flying past them created a surreal sensation of dream-flight; as if it were the world moving and not them.

Dan waited until he was sure Phil had relaxed before veering upwards suddenly and breaking out of the trees. He could hear Phil gasp behind him, and he grinned. Their toes were skimming the treetops like a sea of molten black and purple shadow that dipped and swirled out in front of them in a seemingly endless lake of leaves. The waxen moon shone down with brilliant silver light and the stars were pinpricks in the sky. Dan sped up, no fear of the trees ending – the forest spanned for miles. While the treetops were speeding underneath them, the stars in the sky remained still. Dan turned in a slow ark, careful not to tip Phil off, and they were speeding back towards the castle.

"It's so beautiful," Phil whispered, "I've never seen it from here before. We're always looking up at it."

The castle was bathed in silver moonlight; silhouetted black and gold where the fire burned in the torches in the windows.

"You might want to put your wand out," Dan murmured, "Kind of a good way to draw attention to ourselves when we get closer."

The castle seemed even bigger from above. The towers and spires reached up to the stars and the turrets seemed only to welcome them home.

"Do we have to go back now?" Phil asked softly.

"I thought you didn't like flying? No, but I don't want to go too far away with you in case we lose track of time. We can't go fast enough to get back in time if it starts getting light. If you want to stay out, we'll have to go back down undercover again and stay close to the castle walls." Dan smiled. Normally night flights were chill, but Phil's arms were warm around his waist and his torso shielding his back from the bite of the wind.

Phil rested his head in the crook of Dan's neck, staring almost hungrily up at the sky. "Okay," he sighed. "Let's go down. Can you show me forest things? Centaurs and unicorns and werewolves?"

Dan laughed, dipping gently back down into the canopy. "I doubt we'll see any werewolves. Unicorns are rare, and the centaurs mainly hang out a bit further West. We might see some mulch slugs if you're lucky."

Phil made a face. "Great. You promised amazing things from this trip, I could be in bed right now you know."

"I'm not stopping you," Dan smiled. "Really you need to learn how to fly yourself. Then we can spend all night up there and we can go all the way to the mountains and watch the stars from on top of the world."

"That would be nice." Phil said quietly.

"Oh god. We're such a pair of soppy idiots. Taking a romantic ride out to see the stars." Dan cringed.

"Don't tell Suzie," Phil laughed. "We're just spending some quality time together. Anyway, you owed it to me for making you pass the transfiguration mock, remember."

"Thank you so much," Dan said earnestly, "Literally nothing I ever do could repay you for that. You've saved my skin."

"It was fun, don't worry about it."

"Does… does this mean we won't hang out anymore?" Dan said shyly.

"I hope not, I mean, you're still pretty crappy at transfiguration. That was only one test." Phil grinned.

Dan tried not to look too relieved. "If you get bored of me just leave okay, I must be so annoying."

"Don't be stupid. You're nice. And you're funny. Even if you become a transfiguration pro, I hope we still stay friends. You may only be an ickle third year but you're alright really, for a Slytherin." Phil gave Dan a gentle squeeze. Without thinking, he let go with one arm to light his wand – holding it out to light Dan's way.

"You're alright too I guess, for a Hufflepuff." Dan grinned. The difference in Phil's relaxed posture from when he'd first clambered ungainly on to the broomstick was probably a lot more satisfying than Dan's pitiful improvements at transfiguration. As gently as possible, he brought them down to land. "Okay," He said, shouldering his broomstick. "Let's explore."

* * *

x

* * *

While Dan longed for open sky and the twinkle of the stars against the velvet night; Phil slipped as easily into the forest as he did his pyjamas. His fingers brushed the bark of every tree he passed, his feet treading with care on the springy forest floor. Within seconds he'd located more beetles and slumbering forest mice than Dan had ever seen during his wanderings.

"What? I like trees okay." Phil had said defensively after Dan had laughed at him for pressing his ear to the bark of a particularly elegant silver birch trunk.

"It's so different at night. I've always been kind of too scared to come here in the dark, alone. But I guess on your broom you feel a lot safer." Phil ran a vine gently through his fingers.

Dan nodded. "I've never really been that interested in plants. They don't do much. Well I mean they either do nothing or try to kill you."

Phil shook his head emphatically. "That's the thing with herbology. Very few people understand it. Like, they say they do – they're like 'oh yeah I can see why this plant would be really useful and that we should grow it.' But it's not just that. It's like, the act of bringing something into life and watching it grow for you and flourish under your care and like you don't get any of that blowing stuff up. It's a different, more fulfilling type of satisfaction. Slower but more wholesome. I mean, when you blow something it's gone and so you're just angry again looking for something else to blow up."

Dan chuckled. "I wanna say I get it but you're right, I don't. I get why you get it though. Maybe that's why you're happy all the time, even if you do smell like soil. I don't have the patience. I like action. I like flying and blowing stuff up; preferably at the same time. That would be really cool. Picture it: blood red sunset, flying off on a firebolt and shooting jets of flame over my shoulder without even looking. Blowing up whole villages in a few seconds of fury and then boom: I'm gone."

"I think what you're after is a dragon." Phil laughed wryly.

"Maybe I'll become an animagus," Dan sniggered, "Turn into a fifty foot fire breathing black scaly dragon. I reckon that would be pretty cool."

Phil rolled his eyes. "You're such a little boy."

Dan flourished a mock bow. "And you're such an old man."

"You're gonna have to work a lot harder at the old magic stuff if you wanna turn into anything, let alone a dragon." Phil giggled.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am a master wizard, I put Merlin to shame."

"Oh yes," Phil nodded wisely. "A master wizard who tried to turn a cushion into a kettle and ended up with an enchilada."

* * *

x

* * *

They had been walking for an hour, teasing each other gently and admiring the small creatures that scuttled at night. The heavy beach trees parted and they were in a moonlit glade. At the centre of the glade stood a hawthorn; tall, withered and impossibly old.

"That's a wand tree." Phil breathed.

"How can you tell?" Dan asked.

"Bowtruckle nests. But look Dan – where the moon hits the bark on the other side – what's that?"

They walked cautiously round to the side of the tree that faced the moon and stopped dead in their tracks with a gasp.

Hundreds of names had been carved into the wood with a simple moonlight spell – invisible except when the moon shines on the glade. Names in hearts, dates, small symbols, declarations of love – all shining shimmering and silver against the dark wood. Some looked like they'd been there for hundreds of years. Phil wondered which one had been the first. 'Lily and James forever' was written in the largest heart, precociously in the centre of the tree. It had been scribbled over many times, crude words and taunts surrounding it. Something told Phil neither James nor Lily ad written that there, and had been less than pleased when they discovered it.

"What are we going to write?" Phil asked.

"Huh?" Dan raised his eyebrows.

"Well we've found it, I get the feeling that means we have to leave our mark. Like, this is a pretty special tree. All these people must have gone into the Forbidden Forest which is not a thing a lot of people do. They had to go here at night which is even more stupid, and they had to stumble across this exact tree. Like, that's a lot of chance. We'll probably never find it again. It's just somewhere in the Forbidden Forest where weirdo throughout time have all convened to communicate purely through chance."

Dan nodded. "Okay. Most of these are really soppy though, no one would walk here at night alone but apparently a fair few lovers think it's romantic. I guess we just put our names and a date?"

"Okay. Let's go under Luna something, she has nice handwriting." Carefully, he used a small jet of silver light to carve 'Dan and Phil' into the withered bark.

Dan traced the delicate letters with his fingers. "We've left our mark on Hogwarts now. That's good. This place has been my first magical home, and I don't want it to just forget me when I leave, you know?"

"I don't think it ever forgets anyone. Not the castle or the forest or the trees. But you're right, we've left ourselves somewhere solid. Somewhere special. Just like all these other people."

"Phil," Dan said suddenly. "Look here – it can't be, it must just be a coincidence. Oh my god."

"What?"

"_'Minny and Alice.'_ isn't McGonagall's first name Minerva? I mean, it probably isn't the same person. But can you imagine? How embarrassing would that be if you wrote some soppy love letter and then ended up becoming a teacher?" Dan grinned.

"We're okay, Dan and Phil are common names," Phil laughed. "I really hope it is her. Somehow it makes her seem a lot less scary, imagining her as some little schoolgirl wandering around in the forest at night with this Alice. Called Minny. What do you reckon she'd do if we called her Minny?"

"I think probably eviscerate us." Dan snorted.

"I dare you to try it. On your last day of seventh year."

"You're on."

"I will hold you to that. You've sworn on the moon tree. No take backs."

"Oh God."

"Don't worry, you will be an expert sorcerer able to defend yourself from her disembowelment by then." Phil winked.

"She may be old, but I reckon that woman can pack a mean punch." Dan giggled.

"Kickboxing champion in three different countries, didn't you know?"

"Attack of the haggis."

"Death by tartan."

The dissolved into giggles, doubled over in the quiet glade. The rustling of the leaves sounded like quiet whispered, the whole forest breathing and alive. A red deer paused to survey them curiously. It cocked its head, the white splash on its forehead reflecting the moon, before bounding off into the undergrowth. Phil watched it go with a smile on his face.

"One time, you have to introduce me to the centaurs. I feel like I've been badly disadvantaged not having a broom and only going in here during the day. I did see a unicorn once though. It let me touch it too, and they say they only like girls." Phil said proudly.

"So what you're saying is basically you're a girl." Dan snorted.

Phil threw a mock punch at his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with girls. They can be a bit moody sometimes, or maybe that's just Suzie."

"Are you two together now then?" Dan asked.

"I don't even know," sighed Phil, "I haven't like properly asked her out, but we're seeing each other I guess. She's in my herbology class and she's really smart. I think that's why I liked her, she always brought in these amazing plants she'd been growing and I was kind of in awe. She's pretty too. Everyone says so. But I get the feeling she's just permanently exasperated by everything I do and say. And she gets so pissed off when I don't listen to her. Like it's not even deliberate, I'm just thinking about something different and she's talking but I just slip off into a fantasy or something. I can't help it. Honestly I do care about what she's saying, I'm just not very good at concentrating."

Dan smiled. "Lovers tiffs. Is she nice? That's the important thing."

"Yeah she is. She's quite down to Earth."

"So not like you then."

"No. Not much like me."

As the moon disappeared behind a bank of clouds, the silver scrawls began to fade. '_Dan and Phil'_ lingered the longest, shining bright and silver and new.


	3. Amortentia

_In which Phil stumbles across a love potion._

_NOTE [For those wondering, this is actually taking place at the same time as the harry potter series – Dan's in his third year, Harry and co are in fourth year (goblet of fire) and Phil is in his fifth year. This is a Hogwarts au rather than a harry potter au so harry and co won't really feature, but the things that happened to Hogwarts in this time will. Obviously at the moment it's the Triwizard tournament (ignore what I said in the last chapter about it being spring – I've had to backtrack for timeline purposes and it's winter again lol) also this one seemed a lot cuter in my head but i wrote it really quickly for anon who was angry with me for not uploading, i'm not happy with it though so sorry anon from now on i'm uploading whenever and you'll just have to be patient :P]_

* * *

x

* * *

"You stink of soil. Again. Is it really so hard to take a bath after you've been digging about in the mud?" Dan teased.

"I'd be taking like five baths a day." Phil rolled his eyes.

"Well you should. It's a case of consideration for others, Philip."

Phil laughed. "I'm sorry. Is it really awful?"

"Terrible. I'm not sure I can even sit next to you. I might just go sit over there, and you can shout instructions at me." Dan gestured to the other end of the library.

"I'm sure Madam Prince would be thrilled by that," Phil giggled, "If you want, I can block your nose with tissue? It's quite a simple spell. Alternatively I could use live rats."

"Eww. You're ridiculous. Keep your wand away from me."

Phil poked Dan playfully in the side with his wand, and a spattering of red sparks shot out – making Dan yelp and fall off his chair with a thump.

"Sorry sorry it was an accident! I didn't mean to shoot sparks. I forgot it does that." Quickly, Phil mended the scorch marks in Dan's robes before he noticed.

"You forgot your wand does magic when you point it at stuff."

"Yeah…"

"Jesus. I can see why Suzie's so pissed off with you." Dan shook his head as he clambered back onto his stool, but his expression softened at the sight of Phil's downcast eyes. "Hey, it's okay, it didn't hurt. Just surprised me."

"No it's not that… I mean I don't care about you obviously. It's just, Suzie's _really_ pissed off with me at the moment. I can't remember the last time she wasn't to be honest."

"Do you think she's going to break it off?"

Phil nodded glumly.

Dan rubbed Phil's shoulder comfortably, making a point to wrinkle his nose up in mock disgust at the earthy smell coming from Phil's grubby robes. "Don't worry. I'm sure you can patch it up. Maybe do something for her, like a grand gesture or something really romantic. Hey, you could take her to the tree in the forest and carve your names on it!"

Phil shook his head. "It wouldn't have any meaning to it, it would be weird because I've already been there with you. And anyway, what would I say if she spotted our names already there?"

"Okay, good point," Dan frowned. "How about flowers and stuff? Grow a special rose for her? If that fails, just make a love potion or something."

Phil laughed. "We don't get to do those till next year."

"Steal one!" Dan grinned. "Bake her a cake?"

"Maybe," Phil said, but his tone was unconvinced.

* * *

x

* * *

The potions dungeon was filled with a sparkling green smoke that issued from rows of bubbling cauldrons, collecting on the ceiling and clouding the room so that Phil had to squint to see the instructions on the blackboard. Professor Snape swooped through the aisles of students, sneering into the cauldrons, his face sallow and waxen in the flickering light. The fires made the small stone room uncomfortably warm and Phil was sweating in his winter robes. After attempting unsuccessfully to chop his roots several times, Phil got up to sharpen his knife. Behind the teacher's desk, a potion was brewing in Snape's own pewter cauldron. The surface had a mother of pearl sheen to it and steam was rising in thin pink spirals.

"Amortentia,"

The voice behind him made Phil jump. Snape leered down at Phil.

"I am preparing a cask for my sixth years. Tell me, could you describe the aroma?" Snape's voice had an edge of amusement to it.

Phil racked his brains desperately for amortentia, he knew he'd heard the word somewhere before, but he came up blank. "Um," he muttered, sure he was about to fail some test. "It smells like broomsticks I guess, and honey and something warm. I don't know how to describe it."

Snape's sneer widened. "Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells differently to each person according to what attracts them. Apparently Phil Lester has a thing for Quidditch players."

Phil blushed crimson. Their exchange had attracted the attention of most of class, and an appreciative titter went out from those who had been listening to Snape. Phil turned quickly to sharpen his knife on the stone, then hurried back to his seat without meeting Snape's gaze. It was all the more humiliating because he didn't even know any Quidditch players, and the broomstick smell was almost definitely because he'd met Suzie in Quality Quidditch Supplies three years earlier during a trip to Diagon Alley. He sighed, and returned to cutting roots.

* * *

x

* * *

"You stink! Jesus Christ Phil, did you literally bathe yourself in soil this time?" Dan wrinkled up his nose.

"I just had herbology, it's not my fault!" Phil said defensively. "Anyway, you're not smelling too savoury yourself. Are you maturing cheese in your shoes, or is that just your feet?" Phil dodged a swipe from Dan.

"Oi! My feet don't smell. How dare you. I think actually- get that away from me!"

Phil had conjured up a large bar of soap and was making it float lazily towards Dan.

"If anyone needs that it's you." Dan muttered, attempting to bat away the soap with his textbook.

"I smell like roses," Phil said cheerfully. "Quite literally. We were repotting the fanged ones in greenhouse three."

"Okay, literally, why is there any need for fanged roses."

"Guarding your garden?"

"That's ridiculous. I think most of the things in that greenhouse can do the job pretty well themselves."

"Giving them to unsuspecting lovers that have cheated on you or something?"

"That might be pretty useful actually." Dan mused.

"See," Phil grinned. The soap vanished with a pop as he lay back on a bean bag. "You're getting a lot better at this transfiguration stuff. But like, you're a really good friend as well. I was thinking, tomorrow, for the welcoming feast, do you wanna come sit with us? The delegates from all the other schools will be sitting on whatever table they want and the whole point of this tournament thing is socializing and making friends and stuff, I don't think they'd mind if you sat on the wrong table. People move about a lot anyway, and I hate watching you sitting on your own every day when I just want to go over to you but I'm scared of getting beaten up by Slytherins."

Dan bit his lip. His voice rose a notch as he spoke. "But I don't know any of your friends I'd just sort of be sitting there in the way not saying much and I-"

"They're nice I promise. Well, Carrie is. She'll be super sweet to you and make sure you're not feeling left out or anything. Actually she probably just won't shut up and will get your whole life story out of you. But trust me, she won't care that you're a Slytherin and a third year. Chris might joke about a bit if he comes over because, you know, he's in Gryffindor. But like Charlie and Tom and everyone will be friendly I'm sure. You'll have way more fun than sitting on your own. And like, I'd really like us to be proper friends – not just study buddies. So you've got to meet them all at some point." Phil smiled encouragingly, but Dan still looked unsure.

"I'll think about it, okay? I'll make my mind up on the day. I hear the Durmstrang lot are really scary so if I'm feeling intimidated I'll come hide with you."

Phil smiled, wishing he could pull Dan's timid frame into his arms.

* * *

Phil was skipping two at a time down the marble staircase when he spotted Dan, stood alone to read a large sign that had been erected outside the entrance hall.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30th October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return all bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

Phil paused and bit his lip, wondering if Dan had made his mind up as to whether to sit with them or not.

"Dan!" He called, and Dan jumped. "You excited? It's tonight and then there's the Halloween Feast tomorrow. They're going to have to roll me into potions on Monday."

Dan laughed. "It'll be cool to see people from other magic schools. I dunno, I guess being muggleborn I hadn't thought of any wizarding community existing outside Hogwarts. It's scary sometimes, thinking what I'll do when I leave. I don't have any family or anything to go to – I'll have to be completely alone till I've got enough money to bring my parents into this world a bit."

"You'll be fine," Phil said soothingly. "There are millions of muggleborns all over the world. And you'll have all your friends to help you."

"I don't have any friends." Dan said automatically.

"You have me," Phil said gently, "And if you can be brave you'll have a whole bunch more. I promise I'll stay by your side all night and I won't talk to anyone else."

"Don't be silly." Dan said, but he smiled.

Phil grinned back. "Wanna go get breakfast then?"

"Actually I've already had mine." Dan said.

"That was quick," Phil raised his eyebrows, "What did you eat?"

"Just toast with honey. I have it every day, I'm not usually very hungry in the mornings."

* * *

x

* * *

The conversation all week had been revolving around the Triwizard Tournament and rumours were flying around the castle like high-speed owls: who was going to try out for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons differed from themselves. The castle too had undergone an extra thorough cleansing. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw, pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and fresh garlands of flowers hung from the walls.

The staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Kendall, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple switching spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of a particularly difficult lesson, during which Chris had accidentally managed to transplant his own ears on to a cactus.

When Phil wandered in alone for breakfast, he found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms. He sat down beside Chris, who still sported large bandages on either ear and a somewhat disgruntled expression.

"They're not even letting us practice. I'd thought, with the Quidditch Cup cancelled, we'd still meet up as a rough team to, you know, stay in shape and stuff. But apparently they're using the pitch for one of the bloody Triwizard tasks." Chris grumbled.

Phil patted his back sympathetically. "You can still fly though. I've heard flying over the forest at night is pretty cool, because you won't get in trouble then and you can go all the way to the mountains."

"Who told you that?" Chris asked, surprised. "That's mental. You'd probably get eaten by thestrals or something."

"Nah, I reckon it would be fun."

"You don't even like flying!" Chris exclaimed. "It's all that time spent staying up helping random third years, you need to get more sleep mate. You're going even weirder than usual."

Phil blushed guiltily. "Talking about random third years, you may have noticed Dan kinda doesn't have any friends. I told him he could sit with us tonight if he wanted."

Chris groaned. "Please tell me you're not going to make me talk to a thirteen year old."

"He's fourteen actually, only a year younger than you."

"You sure? When's his birthday?" Chris asked sceptically.

"Eleventh of June."

"That would make him thirteen then, if he's in third year."

Phil frowned. "He definitely said fourteen…"

Chris laughed. "I think he's been having you on mate. I would too if I wanted to hang out with an older kid. Well, it's your call. Carrie will talk to him I'm sure. But if he's annoying, I will poison his food."

Phil rolled his eyes as Chris stuffed a final slice of toast into his mouth and sauntered out of the hall. Why had Dan lied to him? Or had he been kept back a year? His transfiguration was pretty awful… Phil mused silently into his cornflakes.

* * *

x

* * *

There was a pleasant air of anticipation in the air all day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, and when the bell rang the whole school rushed to assemble in the Entrance Hall.

The heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Kendall, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Chris. "Gryffindors, follow me."

Professor Sprout led the Hufflepuffs out and down the steps to spread out in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. All around Phil, students were discussing animatedly the possible means of arrival.

The Beauxbatons arrived first in a huge, horse drawn carriage that hurtled through the air. The Durmstrangs arrived in a tall, skeletal ship that rose silently yet magnificently out of the black lake, and all at once they were back in the hall preparing for the feast. Phil cast his eyes around the throng of people for Dan, and suddenly he was beside him.

"I can't get to my table without going past those massive Durmstrangs, so I guess I'm sitting with you, if that's okay." Dan said in a small voice.

Phil beamed. "Of course! Quick, let's sit down before it fills up. I'll make sure Carrie sits on the other side of you."

The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest. The Beauxbatons however clutched their powder blue robes around them and shivered, one girl eyeing Hagrid down a long and pointed nose with disgust.

A group of jovial Durmstrangs bounded over to the Hufflepuff table and settled noisily next to Carrie, immediately turning to pump the hands of the group and introduce themselves. One of the boys seemed not to have been content with the simple brown of his cloak and had sewn numerous other furs in many different colours into the fabric. He had a wide, slightly crooked smile and a surprisingly skinny frame under the heavy furs. "I'm Alex!" He grinned, shaking Carrie's hand.

She smiled, warming to him immediately, and Dan shivered. He had been counting on this Carrie person to make friends with him while Phil was busy, and he was already starting to regret his decision.

Phil however seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Dan and turned quickly to introduce him to the small group.

"Dan, this is Chris, Charlie, Tom, Carrie, Bryony and Fae. Everyone, this is Dan. We've been doing transfiguration together a lot and I thought I'd rescue him from the Slytherins for the evening."

Six faces smiled warmly at Dan, each offering their 'hello's, and all at once Dan relaxed – a strange, comfortable sensation welling in his chest.

* * *

x

* * *

"Where's Suzie?" Chris asked through a mouthful of potato.

"I don't know," Phil said, his expression clouding. "She was supposed to sit with us. I don't know why she isn't really, she has all year. Maybe she made friends with some of the Beauxbatons or something."

Chris shrugged and returned to his steak, apparently uninterested in the conversations going on around him. Dan couldn't help but notice that directly in Chris's line of sight sat a tall, curly haired and incredibly attractive Ravenclaw who seemed to be holding at least 80% of Chris's attention at any one time. Dan smirked.

After they had eaten their full, the group decided to give their new Durmstrang friends a quick tour of the castle before bed. On the way, they headed down into the dungeons to drop Dan off at his common room. A sweet, sticky smell floated from the potions classroom, along with a heavy pink cloud of smoke. Phil recognised the smell immediately. Apparently the seventh years had been brewing love potions all day, and they had been left to cool while the school attended the feast. The smell in the air was almost overwhelming and made Phil feel slightly giddy. In front of him, Carrie and the Durmstrang boy, Alex, were flirting outrageously. Chris was muttering what sounded suspiciously like romantic poetry under his breath, and Bryony was shying up to a tall, dark haired Durmstrang who had remained silent for most of the meal.

The conversation was loud and cheerful, so much so that Phil almost didn't notice the two figures intertwined passionately and obliviously behind a stone pillar. A Beauxbatons boy, with floppy blonde hair and gloriously clear skin, had his mouth well and truly clamped onto Suzie Spinner. Phil stopped dead in his tracks, and all at once the group fell silent to turn and stare. Seemingly as one entity, their eyes travelled slowly from Suzie to Phil and he felt his heart drop from his mouth to his toes. His knees felt shaky and he didn't want to open his mouth for fear of what would come out. In the silence, Dan's hand slipped into his.

* * *

Phil didn't cry that much. He had known for a long time that things were going downhill, but then again, Suzie had been his first and only crush. Mainly however he was appalled. Never would have he expected it to end like this; maybe she'd had too much punch, and maybe the fumes from the potions classroom had taken their toll, but for whatever reason she had lost her status as a 'really nice girl' and left Phil at a loss. Dan stayed with him even when Carrie had taken Alex to see the grounds and Chris had gone in search of Italian Ravenclaws. One by one, the others had offered their condolences and slipped off to bed until Dan and Phil remained, sat close together in an empty corridor.

"Maybe it was because you smell of soil all the time." Dan tried to lighten the mood, and Phil laughed weakly.

"So did she though," he mumbled. "Herbology buddies, remember?"

Dan rubbed Phil's shoulder sympathetically. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, that Beauxbatons dude was really ugly compared to you."

Phil snorted. "I appreciate your attempts to console me, but I don't think anyone would buy that one."

"It's true though," Dan said defensively. "You're much better than him. He was just so… generic. You're special. You deserve a lot better than Suzie anyway. You need to find someone you have a lot in common with, someone you click with without having to work at it."

Phil smiled. "It's not even that though, it's just the fact I wasn't even worth a bit of human decency to her – regardless of our relationship. She didn't even seem that ashamed when she spotted me. She just sort of, shrugged at me and dragged him away. Like, I matter that little to her. Even when she was pissed off with me, she always seemed to care. I just never expected that of her."

"I know, I know." Dan said soothingly. They had had the same conversation over and over, as is always the way, but Dan remained patient. Phil got the impression Dan would stay here all night with him if he needed.

* * *

x

* * *

Suzie, it transpired, was easy to hate. After several hours of comforting and pep talks from Dan, Phil had begun to see her faults. She would always be nagging at him, never happy with what he did, always wanting him to be better somehow than he could be. She was a whiner too, forever complaining about some ache or pain or terrible drama in her life. She looked down on Phil, her quiet, weirdo little tag along, and he had never really been happy with her. It was with a smile on his face that he returned to the dungeons for a second time to say goodbye to Dan. As they passed the smoke filled potions classroom, Phil suddenly had an idea.

"Wait here," he said to Dan.

Quickly, he darted inside the classroom, making sure to close the door behind him so Dan couldn't see what he was doing. He picked out the most successful looking potion and spooned a shimmering pink blob of amortentia out of the now still cauldron. He faltered for a moment, not sure if it was safe to touch, before using his wand to haphazardly siphon some of the liquid onto his robes. Thankfully, it dried clear and was almost unnoticeable within a few seconds. After a couple of liberal dollops, he decided the pungent aroma was sufficiently drowning and carefully returned the ladle. He took a generous sniff, enjoying the musky scent of broomsticks with a sweetening of honey. The warmness was there too. It seemed oddly familiar, maybe it reminded him of home, but that made no sense. Amortentia was supposed to smell of something he found attractive, but Phil was in too much of a hurry to put much thought into it. Chuckling with anticipation, he headed back out into the corridor where he immediately pounced on Dan, pulling him into a bear hug.

"What do I smell like now then, eh?" He grinned.

Dan laughed, pushing him away. "You smell like a pathetic attempt to cover up your stupid soil smell with chocolate. In fact, I think you've just ended up making the soil smell stronger."


	4. The Three Broomsticks

_It's Dan's first trip to Hogsmeade. Chris is sexually frustrated, and Dan and Phil are 100% heterosexual_

* * *

x

* * *

Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were covered in a glittering layer of frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick had already decorated the charms classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be hundreds of real, fluttering fairies. Phil was in his dormitory wrapping up with a heavy cloak and several scarves for a trip to the greenhouses when his owl, Eric, shot into the room and slammed into the wall opposite, sliding comically down to land on the floor with a thud. Phil rolled his eyes, but sympathetically picked up the small owl and helped him smooth down his feathers and regain his pride. There was a small scroll tied to his leg, which Phil unfolded and sat down to read.

* * *

_Hey, I know we don't really do this anymore but it's the third year's second trip to Hogsmeade this weekend. I didn't go last time because I didn't have anyone to go with, but I'd really like to see the village and do some Christmas shopping and stuff. Are you going? If you are, I don't suppose I could tag along with you? It's mainly because I've never been to a proper wizard village before but I'm sure the excitement will wear off quickly enough. Don't worry if not, I totally understand._

_Dan_

* * *

Phil's heart melted a little at the thought of Dan sitting alone in the Slytherin common room while everyone ran excitedly off to Hogsmeade with their friends and returned, pockets brimming with sweets. Phil didn't think it would be a problem to bring Dan along with him. Although he didn't show it, he knew Chris had become quite fond of Dan from the few times they'd sat together. When unlocked, Dan had a wicked sense of humour, and he and Chris got on like a house on fire. Phil didn't have to worry about any of the others because they'd already agreed to split up for the purposes of Christmas shopping. He scribbled a reply to Dan and pulled on his thick, dragon hide gloves; donning an expression of grim determination as he set off to de-thorn the flesh-eating fuchsia.

* * *

x

* * *

Dan was trying very hard to contain his excitement and look cool as he set off with Phil and Chris towards the castle gates. Two of Dan's fellow Slytherins walked passed, shooting Dan curious glances, and Phil noticed Dan straighten up a little taller and puff out his chest. Everyone knew Chris of course, the charismatic Gryffindor chaser who'd spurred his team to victory last year in the Quidditch cup.

"I reckon it's going to start snowing." Chris mused.

"You're probably right." Phil nodded.

"Yeah, I reckon so." Dan agreed wisely.

Phil and Chris exchanged a grin. While his expression was straight, there was no hiding the childlike glee in Dan's eyes.

The ground was crisp and the grass still brittle and crunching under their feet. They joined the throng of cloaked and chattering students on the cobbled road, and made their way down into the village of Hogsmeade.

* * *

Dan's eyes were wide as he took in the picturesque clutter of shops and houses. He'd never seen a wizard's home before, and he stared eagerly through the windows of the small cottages until he was glared at furiously by a robust washerwoman.

Chris led them in a beeline to Honeydukes, much to Dan's dismay. He wasn't done staring yet, but at the smell that wafted out of the brightly coloured sweet shop he soon forgot the village.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, levitating sherbet balls that bounced off the walls and the ceiling, emitting a high pitched squeal. Along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), black Pepper Imps (breathe fire for your friends!), Ice Mice (hear your teeth chatter and squeak!), peppermint creams shaped like toads (hop realistically in your stomach), fragile sugar spun quills and exploding bonbons.

Chris headed straight for the 'Unusual Tastes' section with a wicked grin, and Dan followed him curiously.

"What do you think, blood flavoured lollipops or Cockroach Cluster?" Chris asked conversationally.

"I'm leaning towards the snake breath popping candy," Dan replied with a smile. "Who are you buying for?"

"Oh, these are for myself of course." Chris replied, scooping up a pile of Owl Droppings and adopting a horrified expression.

Dan giggled. "I think Carrie would like these." He said, pointing to a wicker basket full of 'Crucified Rabbits'.

Phil dragged him away with a tsk. "Honestly, you're terrible, the pair of you. Come on Dan. I'm going to need your help. Then again, that might have been a good place to get something for Suzie."

Dan winced. "Have you spoken to her at all? Since…"

"Nah," Phil shook his head. "Nothing to say really. I think she tried to say sorry, the next Monday in herbology. She looked pretty guilty actually. I don't think she would have done it if it hadn't been for the butterbeer and the whole party atmosphere thing. Even so, she did it and that's enough. I just ignored her."

Dan nodded slowly. "What about that Beauxbatons boy? Are her and him a thing or?"

"Nope," Phil said bitterly. "She was crying about it all week. He was apparently really embarrassed about it, because obviously he's a lot older and like a delegate and of age and stuff, and he wouldn't even look at her."

"Well, it serves her right," Dan said bracingly. "Is there anything you'd recommend? I'm kinda tempted to try everything but I'm too poor."

Phil seemed to take Dan's request as a challenge and took him on a whistle-stop tour of the shop, pulling sweet things of shelves and into Dan's arms, until he had enough different coloured shiny wrappers to wallpaper his dormitory. They dragged Chris out of the dark recesses of Banshee Tears and headed off to Christmas shop. Dan had great fun buying oven mitts that could bake 50 pies in an hour all by themselves for his mum, while Phil bought a cookbook that jumped up and clouted you round the head if you deviated too far from the recipe.

"Maybe I'll get through a whole summer without food poisoning for once." He muttered darkly.

When it came to presents for friends however, Dan was left at a loss. Phil and Chris were cheerfully picking out vibrantly patterned socks and elegant quills for all their friends, but the only friends Dan felt he could buy for were right there with him. He wondered if he could sneak a grow-your-own sickle tree (guaranteed to make you rich within the year) up to the till without Phil noticing, but all too soon they were heading out of the shops ad towards The Three Broomsticks.

As predicted, snow had started to fall on the quaint little village. The white flakes settled in Dan's hair and melted on his lashes, making him smile quietly. Phil watched him, and flashed him a grin of his own – sticking out his tongue to catch the first flakes before they hit the ground. The air was crisp and the wind chill, so the warmth of the pub was welcome. Opening the doors was like unleashing a bear hug that pulled them in out of the cold. The buzz of merry chatter and clanking glasses followed them through to a small table by the window, where they could watch the snow fall.

"Have you ever tried butterbeer?" Phil asked.

"No," Dan replied. "Is it actual beer though? Because I'm not eighteen yet so I don't think I can…"

"You come of age at seventeen, remember? Anyway, it's like the tiniest amount of alcohol. You'd have to drown yourself in it for it to have any effect. You're allowed to drink it any age, the most you're going to feel is a tingle."

The butterbeer was delicious and seemed to heat Dan from the inside. Sure enough, a warm tingling spread to his fingers and he sat back, a smile on his face. A group of rowdy warlocks sat on one side of them, two elderly wizards knocking back firewhisky like it was water on the other. The bar was packed with jostling bodies and laughter, and from where they sat they had a view of everyone who came in and out.

"Phil tells me you fly." Chris said to Dan.

Dan blushed and stammered a little. "Yeah, just for fun though. I'm not very good."

"Have you ever tried out for your team?"

"No. My broom's not good enough anyway." Dan replied.

"You can use a school one, half our team does. Why don't you? I bet you're good. You have that look about you. Lightweight but agile." Chris pressed.

Dan squirmed a little in his seat. "I'm really not. I'm too lanky. I don't think I'd be much good."

"Hey, you're the same height as me and I do okay at it. What position do you play?"

Dan reddened a little. "Well, normally I play seeker because I'm so bad at everything else."

"You know, I thought that the moment I met you." Chris said earnestly.

Phil rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous you are," He said to Chris. "There's no way you knew that. Boys and their quidditch. You don't hear the girl players going on and on about it like this."

"Hey, they're just as passionate as we are. They're just more ashamed about it." Chris argued.

"No, they're more considerate. They know when to shut up." Phil teased.

Chris put up a hand to stop Phil and closed his eyes briefly. "I could sit and argue the subtle complexities of quidditch with you all day Phil Lester, but a certain Mr Liguori has just entered the premises."

Sure enough, PJ and a group of his friends had ducked through the low door and were making their way up to the bar. Chris made no attempt to be subtle as he turned his chair around so as to get a better look.

"You two talk amongst yourselves and I'll pretend like I'm listening." He winked.

Phil shook his head in disbelief. "Why don't you just talk to him?"

"Ahh, Phil. If only life were that simple." Chris said wistfully.

Exasperated, Phil turned back to Dan.

"So. What do you want for Christmas?"

"Oh no, I don't want anything." Said Dan, red faced.

"But I want to get you something. I really like giving presents, it's mean of you not to let me." Phil grinned.

"I, er, I really don't know Phil. What do you want?" Dan tried to steer the conversation away from himself.

Phil considered for a moment. "I'd like a new scarf," he decided. "See, that wasn't so hard was it? Your turn."

Dan searched desperately for an idea. "There's nothing I want, seriously. Just get me sweets or something."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "I think you've bought enough sweets today. Something better."

"_Phil_." Dan complained.

"_Dan_." Phil mimicked.

"Can you not just surprise me?"

Phil sighed dramatically. "Fine. I will do my best. You're a pain you are. I don't know why I'm friends with you."

"But you are, and that's a good enough present for me." Dan sniggered.

Chris turned round suddenly and interjected with a laugh. "Will you two just get engaged already? You're being painfully obvious."

Dan and Phil turned several shades of crimson simultaneously. "Chris. For goodness sake. Don't be stupid." Phil scolded.

Chris just raised an eyebrow. "Touchy." He winked, and turned back to PJ.

Phil sighed. "You're ridiculous," he muttered. "Dan, why don't you go get more drinks? See if you can brush past PJ multiple times and make Chris jealous."

Chris tutted as he moved in to let Dan past. "You can laugh all you like, but you know I'm right."

"No, you're just being annoying. As usual. You see filth in everything. I don't know why I'm friends with you." Phil complained.

"You're hardly Mr innocent," Chris grinned.

Dan was out of earshot now, and Phil leaned forwards with a frown. "Seriously though Chris, stop it. You're making Dan feel awkward. I know to you everyone is bi until proven otherwise, but Dan's just a kid. He's only just met us and you can tell he's pretty nervous. Don't mess with him, okay?"

"Very protective over your little friend." Chris's grin widened.

Phil groaned. "Chris, please. Grow up a bit. We're both 100% heterosexual. I just had a girlfriend!"

"I've had four, and look at me now." Chris sniggered, staring hungrily up at the bar.

The kitchen door opened and a barmaid bustled out with a heaped tray of food. Before the door could close behind her, a small, calico kitten slipped out and into the bar with a mewl. PJ was the first to spot her cries for attention, and he bent down to run his fingers through her soft fur – his already tight jeans stretching impossibly tighter over the beautiful curve of his behind.

"Good moooorning PJ." Chris whistled. Almost immediately, he pulled a cushion not so surreptitiously on to his lap and grinned.

Phil laughed. "Oh my god. You need to get laid."

"You're telling me. Oi! Philip, _you_ need to control your boy."

Sure enough, Dan had seen the kitten as well and wandered over, where he had apparently struck up a conversation with PJ. His arm brushed against PJ as he too bent down to stroke the cat.

A moment later, Phil's face reddened and he reached for a cushion. "It's just really bad timing. Shut up." He muttered as Chris exploded into laughter.

"I can't wait till Dan gets back here." Chris chortled.

"Oh god, please don't," Phil moaned. "Please, seriously, just grow up a bit. Please Chris."

Chris was still chuckling when Dan returned with three tall glasses brimming with butterbeer.

Phil spoke immediately, determined to get in before Chris did. "So. I saw you having a nice chat with PJ. I really hope you're engaged now or something."

Dan laughed, turning to Chris with a smile. "I see why you like him. He's _dreamy_." He teased.

Chris laughed, raising his eyes at Phil. "Keep your hands off my Italian. Incidentally, I didn't know you swung that way. Welcome to the club."

"I no, no I don't – I'm not," Dan backtracked quickly. "I was just messing with you." He sat down abruptly and took a large gulp of butterbeer. The bubbles shot straight up his nose and he choked, narrowly avoiding spraying his friends with drink.

Chris tried valiantly to hide his laughter behind a menu. Dan coughed, red faced, and shrank down into his chair.

"So, um, Dan," Phil said, ignoring Chris, "What did PJ say? You were practically holding hands at one point, you're going to need to describe it all in detail for Chris here."

"He smells like heaven and his skin is softer than clouds." Dan grinned at Chris.

This had the desired effect and Chris shut up immediately, staring wistfully over at the table of Ravenclaws PJ had returned to.

"Oh Peej," He sighed. "Why must you taunt me so."

PJ was sweeping his hair out of his face, almost in slow motion, his green eyes sparkling with laughter.

Dan sniggered, and Phil relaxed.

"Oi, pass me the other menu will you? I need double protection for this angle." Chris continued.

Dan and Phil reached for the menu in the same moment, their hands colliding in the middle of the table. They jerked backwards, as if shocked, stumbling over apologies. Phil pushed his hair awkwardly out of his eyes, his cheeks pink. There was an awkward silence, during Dan shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he struggled to pull his cloak back around him in the act of a yawn. As the conversation continued, he shuffled again, tugging desperately to hide the small bulge in his jeans.

"Er, Chris," He said, after a few minutes. "Where'd you get that cushion? This chair's really hard." His attempt at a conversational tone was dismal, and Chris and Phil fell silent as their mouths dropped open in identical expressions of realisation.

Dan was both horrified and oblivious as his cheeks burned and he squirmed under their stares.

"Well, would you look at that," Chris said, after one of the longest silences Dan had ever endured. "The Three Broomsticks."


	5. Fanged Roses and Levitating Pansies

_In which Dan and Phil share a friendly bubble bath_

* * *

It seemed to Phil that Dan had been avoiding him ever since the incident in The Three Broomsticks. Whenever he spotted Dan in the corridors he appeared to suddenly forget something and perform an about turn, before speeding off in the opposite direction. In truth, Phil wasn't completely unhappy about this – his face burned whenever he recognised that familiar head protruding awkwardly a good few inches above the crowd of third years. Chris, of course, still hadn't shut up about it.

"Mock me all you like," he'd said, after Phil had teased him for following PJ through the corridors for half an hour during break, "But you got excited over a thirteen year old."

"He's fourteen!" Phil had complained, but with a hint of doubt in his voice. Dan looked older - he could easily have passed for fifteen – but Chris was right, the numbers just didn't add up.

* * *

x

* * *

"I saw your beaux," Chris said one wintry morning over a glass of pumpkin juice. "He was sitting on his own in the corridor looking sad."

Phil sighed. "Why didn't you say hi?"

"I was in a hurry, PJ was walking too quickly for me to stop."

"You know, you could get arrested for that. Stalking." Phil waggled his finger at Chris.

"I call it 'following adoringly'." Chris replied with a grin.

Phil shook his head and laughed. "That's incredibly creepy. How he hasn't noticed yet is beyond me."

"Anyway, stop changing the subject. Have you two had a lovers tiff? Why weren't you in the library yesterday, helping him with transfiguration?" Chris asked.

Phil sighed again, his shoulders slumping. "It's embarrassing isn't it? After what happened at the weekend, neither of us wants to be the first person to have to talk to the other after that. I don't know what I'd say without it being cripplingly awkward."

Chris stroked an imaginary beard. "Hmm," he mused. "Tricky situation. Have you considered prayer?"

Phil hit Chris on the arm with his gloves. "Thanks. Seriously though. I was going to write to him, like we do sometimes, but I figured that would highlight even more how weird things are now."

"You two are so romantic and you don't even realise it. I mean, come on. You were basically writing love letters to each other for months."

"We're just friends," Phil said, exasperated. "We just talked about bands and school and stuff. Stop being so annoying, I'll go ask Carrie."

"Okay, okay, I'll help – I promise. You need a premise for meeting up that gives you something to do so it's not awkward and you can keep the subject away from foggy patches. You know, like your raging homosexual love for each other." Chris winked.

"_Chris._" Phil moaned.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. How about taking him somewhere romantic?"

"Chris."

"A stroll in the forest under the moon?"

Phil's face reddened a little, and he didn't say anything.

"Teach him how to make a love potion and then, intoxicated by the fumes, fall on each other like animals?" Chris continued, clearly enjoying himself.

Phil's cheeks glowed brilliant pink.

"You've already done the love letters and the trip to Picturesque Local Village, how about you show him some of your hobbies? Roll about in the mud a bit?"

"Actually, that's quite a good idea," Phil said, ignoring Chris's chuckles. "I could ask him if he'll help me in the greenhouses or something."

"Perfect," Chris's grin widened. "I suggest roses."

Phil ignored him, tucking into his toast.

* * *

x

* * *

"Remind me why I'm here again?" Dan muttered, pulling his scarf up to his chin as they trudged shivering through the snowy grounds.

"Greenhouse four is for students to grow whatever we want, within safety rules, so obviously our stuff doesn't get cared for. Sometimes it takes more than one person, and this is an emergency. Also I get to persuade you how cool plants are." Phil grinned.

"Yeah… good luck with that."

It took both of them to pull open the glass door, the frost having frozen it shut. Inside however was warm and humid, a tropical climate maintained by a few simple spells which Phil added to automatically as he closed the door behind him.

"Everyone has to help each visit, the charms degrade after all and that would be awful for all the plants here, not just our own." Phil explained.

"That reminds me actually, can you go over that with me at some point? Like, why spells fall apart after a while? It's in the test on Friday and I really haven't got a clue, I think I pulled out the chapter from my book to clean my broom with."

Phil chuckled. "Second law of thermodynamics. Entropy never decreases and the universe tends to disorder."

"I'm sorry, what?" Dan snorted.

"Things are always getting more disordered, like cliffs eroding and spells breaking down. That's because there are a million billion ways you can rearrange the grains in a pile of sound without changing the overall structure of the sand pile. But there's very few ways you can rearrange the parts of a cliff without it not being a cliff anymore. The probability is therefore that it's more likely for it to end up as a sand pile than as a cliff." Phil carefully snapped a few small branches off a plant, before moving onto the next and frowning. "Like, the wind could just pick up the sand and put it down in exactly the shape of a cliff – it's perfectly possible, but it's never going to happen. Over time, the cliff's going to break down. So things get more disordered – like, over the whole universe. And energy gets more spread out. The spell breaks down, and the energy disperses and is transferred into all different forms - but that's the first law."

Dan stared at him blankly. "What the hell. I'm like a hundred percent sure that isn't what it said in the chapter. It was 'Gibbs' Free Magic'. Not freaking 'thermodynamics.' That sounds like a disease."

"See, that's weird. I though you would have heard of entropy and stuff, being from the muggle world. It's actually the same thing." Phil smiled at Dan through the leaves of a hanging vine that was attempting to slowly sneak its long tendrils around Dan's neck. "I was just giving you the actual version, rather than the weird simple one he told all the wizards because they couldn't get their heads round it and refused to believe it – even though he proved it in loads of different ways. He was an amazing wizard, Willard Gibbs. But most of the incredible magic he did was lost because no one else could understand it. Well, it was more that they refused to listen. He ended up telling the muggles instead and they were fine with it, although obviously he had to brush over the magic stuff. He called it 'dark matter' or something. It's funny, we look down on them so much but we're the ones still using quills and candles and fires and stuff."

Dan was watching Phil talk, his mouth hanging open "How do you just know so much stuff," he muttered, shaking his head, but there was a hint of awe in his tone. After a moment of watching him work, he spoke again. "You're right, though. It took me ages to get the hang of using a quill and it seemed so stupid when I had a biro in my pocket."

Phil grinned. "My Dad practices progressive wizardry. A lot of people think he's mental, but he's getting there I reckon. He studies muggle sciences a lot and he's enrolled in a muggle university and everything."

"That's really cool."

"What do your parents do?"

"They're teachers. My dad teaches physics at a uni actually, wouldn't it be so funny if he taught your dad?" Dan laughed.

"Oh my god that's amazing," Phil said. "And your dad knows about magic because of you, they could literally team up and take over the world."

"It would either be incredible or result in the world being blown up."

Phil sniggered. "Probably the latter, knowing my Dad. Anyway. Here's what I need help with."

Most of that long speech had been to ensure they slipped back into conversation without any awkwardness, and Phil was pretty sure Dan had realised his ploy and encouraged it. Now though, Phil was fairly confident that they were back in comfortable territory, The Three Broomsticks locked away somewhere dark in the back of their minds.

They had reached the far end of the greenhouse. Large rays of violet light were being emitted by a pulsating blue flower, but it wasn't this Phil was interested in. He had his head tilted to the ceiling, where a hundred tiny pansies fluttered and bounced off the glass with colourful petal wings.

"Right…" Dan said, dubiously. "What are we supposed to do with them?"

"Nothing too complicated, just catch them." Phil said with a grin that suggested it was going to be anything but easy.

"Can't you just use magic or something?"

"What 'magic' do you suggest?" Phil sniggered.

"Er, summoning spell?"

"Good idea," Phil said, turning to the pansies. "Acio!"

Nothing happened.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. They're kinda 'magic' too. We're going to have to use our hands."

Dan groaned.

"Don't worry, they're only levitating pansies. They're perfectly sweet and harmless."

"OW!"

* * *

x

* * *

After the pansies, Phil watched and laughed at Dan's pathetic attempts to prune a fanged white rose. Just as he seemed to be getting the hang of it, the flower took a vicious swipe at the exposed flesh above the top of Dan's gloves. Red blood spurted forth, which the flower lapped up eagerly, and Phil hurried forwards with a yelp.

"Are you okay? Don't worry, it's only a little scratch and these ones aren't poisonous. Well, not very. You'll be fine I promise. I can probably fix it actually it's only shallow. Come here." Phil's voice was thick with concern, and he held Dan close as he carefully siphoned away the blood and closed the small wound. Dan smelled like honey. His hair had a woody tang to it, and there was something else too – something warm. Phil closed his eyes briefly, shivering.

"There," he said gently. "How does it feel?"

"Fine actually," Dan said, surprised. "How the hell are you so clever? Shouldn't you have been in Ravenclaw or something?"

Phil laughed. "No, definitely not. I'm a Hufflepuff through and through. My Dad likes to learn. He gets really bored and restless when he's not learning a new skill and I guess it's rubbed off on me. We always ended up getting roped in, because when he learns something he finds really exciting he wants to share it."

Dan nodded. "Okay, mild catastrophe over. What's next, oh genius healer Phil?"

They left the greenhouse covered in mud and smelling strongly of manure, having finished by fertilizing a particularly violent snapdragon who responded by flinging thestral dung all over the greenhouse and anyone who had the audacity to stand too close to it. Back at the castle, they ran into Chris heading down towards the Great Hall.

"Good afternoon. You two smell awful. Philip, have you got shit in your hair again?"

"Most probably. It was an eventful trip, but I've had worse. Obviously, we're going to go take a shower now."

"What, together?" Chris quipped quickly.

Phil groaned. "No. Funnily enough."

Something flashed past Chris's eyes and he grinned suddenly, before quickly adopting a straight face again. "You don't want to go to the bathrooms, seriously – it's chock a block. There's first years everywhere, I think they decided to play quidditch on the ground since the pitch is closed. Anyway, they're all covered in mud and er, whipping each other with towels and stuff. You wouldn't get one cubicle, let alone two."

"Are you sure?" Phil frowned.

"Positive. Trust me, you want to stay away. I reckon the second floor bathrooms are just as bad. Probably better to use the prefects', there'll be no one there. Password's Pine Fresh till next Sunday." Chris said helpfully.

Phil's eyes narrowed.

"But neither of us are prefects," Dan said, surprised. "Don't you need a password?"

"Carrie's a prefect, we got it out of her. If you haven't been yet it's worth the trip. Go on Phil, I really do mean it when I say it's like Dante's bloody Inferno in there. I couldn't get a patch of floor to piss on." Chris grinned.

Phil winced. "Okay, cheers for the heads up. I guess I'll show Dan the prefect's bathroom then huh. He's right though, it's pretty cool." He said, turning to Dan.

"Okie doke, I'll leave you fellas to it then. Adios!" Chris left them with a chuckle, and there was a moment of silence before Phil set off again towards the fifth floor.

"Where is it?" Dan asked curiously.

"Behind the fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered." Phil replied.

"Right."

"It's almost always empty which is nice, but when you do have company it's the type that makes you feel incredibly inadequate - usually someone like Cedric Diggory, flashing his abs and doing pull ups on the arches."

Dan pretended to wretch.

* * *

x

* * *

On one wall stood a row of plain stalls with sinks opposite. In front of them however was a large, swimming-pool-like bathtub sunk into the floor. Hundreds of taps, each with a different jewel set into the handle, surrounded the tub, and Dan let out a low whistle.

"That's ridiculous. You could do lengths in that." He stared around him again, then faltered. "Are there not… aren't there any showers?"

"No..." Phil blushed. "That's why I didn't suggest here straight away. It's alright though – look, I'll show you." He quickly turned a few taps and Dan watched amazed as jets of different coloured bubbles poured fourth amidst the water. Giggling, he joined Phil in running round the length of the tub turning them all on until a rainbow of bubbles and froth churned in the centre of the steamy water. The tub filled remarkably quickly given its size, and all too soon they were running round frantically once more turning the taps off again before it overflowed.

The noise of the running water had drowned their laughter, but as Dan turned the last tap it was suddenly very silent.

Phil cleared his throat. "So uh, yeah, there's a lot of bubbles so it's alright. I'll, er, turn round."

They were standing on opposite sides of the pool, with their backs to each other, awkwardly fumbling with their robes as quickly as possible. Dan was first to slip into the warm water, and as he turned around he caught a glance of Phil's pale (and very naked) body before whipping back round again with a horrified gasp, his cheeks burning.

He waited until he was quite sure he'd heard the splash of Phil getting into the bath before turning back around.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Phil grinned.

There was a large bubble balanced perfectly on Phil's nose, and Dan couldn't help but giggle – plunging his head underwater and swimming shark-like to pop up again next to Phil.

"Let me fix that for you." He grinned, scooping up a handful of pink bubbles and carefully constructing a beard for Phil that would have put Dumbledore to shame.

"How do I look?" Phil asked, pretending to pose.

"Like a slightly feminine Father Christmas."

"Hey, just because it's pink doesn't mean it's feminine. I totally rock pink." Phil protested.

"Oh yes," Dan nodded wisely. "You look positively er, manly."

Phil raised a palm full of bubbles and blew, hard, shooting them into Dan's face and making him splutter.

"Oi! Do you really wanna start this?!"

In response, Phil threw another armful of bubbles onto Dan's head.

"Right. You asked for it."

"Arrghh Dan!" Phil spluttered as Dan launched himself on top of Phil, plunging them both underwater in a tangle of limbs.

They resurfaced, spluttering, and dangerously close to one another. Phil seized the opportunity to pull great mountains of bubbles into a multi-coloured pyramid balanced ridiculously on top of Dan's head.

Dan pouted, and Phil exploded into laughter that sent more bubbles flying. In retaliation, Dan painted blue bubble eyebrows onto Phil with a cackle of glee as Phil raised and lowered them, making the bubbles wobble and bounce.

They played in the rainbow for half an hour. Having seriously depleted the supply of bubbles, they returned shivering to a blue stoned tap and huddled close to the warm jet of water.

Dan's teeth chattered as he spoke. "This one's my favourite. It smells like chocolate, even though it's blue. It's weird. You smell kinda like chocolate sometimes. I get why now though, that crazy chocolate tree you've got going on in the greenhouse. That was delicious, but incredibly weird."

Phil grinned. "That's one of my own, I bred it and added a little spell. It took several attempts though, the first ones tasted like vomit. Literal vomit. I'm still not exactly sure how that happened."

"Ew," Dan said, wrinkling his nose.

"Exactly," Phil shuddered.

Dan blew gently, carving a tunnel in the bubbles that were spilling out in front of them. He giggled to himself, and Phil smiled fondly at the light in his eyes. Dan's hair was damp and thick with bubbles. It stuck to his bronzed skin, falling in front of his face. His shoulders were out of the water. They glistened with moisture, shadows falling in the soft crevices of his collar bones and shoulder blades. The tendons in his neck rippled and lean muscles were just visible as he moved. Phil cursed silently to himself.

Dan was building a castle in the bubbles. Tall turrets wobbled and bobbed in the water, and tunnels and doors caved in just as quickly as Dan could carve them. Phil watched the crease between his brows as he worked, and the concentration in his eyes. Dan bit his lip too, when he was concentrating. It made his cheek dimple. Phil closed his eyes briefly, striking out suddenly towards the other side of the bath tub. He turned onto his back to float backwards to Dan, realising all too late that too many of the bubbles had popped now and he was well and truly above the water. He spluttered and coughed as he tried to turn over and ended up thrashing red faced in the water until his toes found the bottom.

Dan's eyes were wide and his jaw might as well have been on the bottom of the pool.

Quickly, he pulled his gaze away from Phil and attempted to go back to castle building, his cheeks glowing.

"Er, sorry. Accident." Phil muttered.

"What? I didn't see anything." Dan coughed slightly.

"Ahem."

Phil turned determinedly to Dan's castle. "That's pretty. It's all colour coded. You can make it float around."

Phil made to scoop up the castle and send it bobbing to the other end of the pool, but Dan yelped and snatched the pile of bubbles away from him, pulling them back into his chest with a flush in his cheeks. The movement dislodged one of Dan's earrings, and it fell into the water with a plop and sank.

"I've got it." Phil said, diving quickly under the water, his eyes open and searching.

"No, don't do that!" Dan yelped, but it was too late. Phil was already on his way back up, and had seen what Dan was hiding under the bubble pile.

He broke the surface with cheeks many shades darker than the bubbles surrounding them.

"Not again." Dan moaned.

They turned away from each other, staring determinedly at the opposite walls, breathing heavily.

"Bad timing." Phil said.

"Yeah," Dan agreed.

"Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you actually fourteen?"

"Yeah. I, er, redid my second year. Don't laugh at me. It wasn't because I'm stupid or anything."

"I'm not laughing. So you'll be fifteen this year? That makes it slightly better. Not that – not about this, I mean, just in case it was…"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Oh, here's your earring by the way." Phil turned back around and awkwardly handed Dan the small stud.

Dan's hands were wet and he fumbled trying to get it back in. After a moment of watching him struggle, Phil took Dan's hands gently and slipped the earring back in.

Dan turned slowly to face him. Phil seemed to have forgotten to let go of Dan's hand, and it was very warm in his.

Phil's eyes were blue, and Dan's were brown. That was about as much as either of them were thinking as they leaned in to press their lips together.

Dan tasted like soap, and a few bubbles went up Phil's nose, making him cough. They pulled away quickly, leaning against the stone walls on either side of their favourite blue tap.

"Okay." Dan said.

"Yeah. Um, I'm kinda stumped now." Phil mumbled.

"Yeah. Me too. Listen, I'm not gay. I'm really not. Like I don't want to go anywhere near another guy's dick thanks very much."

They blushed together as they realised what Dan's had just said and the proximity of their naked bodies.

"You know what I mean though…" Dan muttered.

"Yeah, I'm the same," Phil reassured. "Like, I've never once thought about… that. You know? I don't know it's just with you… it's different though. It doesn't feel like I felt towards Suzie. I don't think we're gay or anything. This is just something weird. Probably hormones."

"Yeah," Dan agreed. "Probably hormones."

"Yeah."

"Um, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"Now we know it's just hormones and stuff… can we do it again?"

* * *

They had let much of the water out so that they could sit, both slightly wrinkled now, their torsos out of the water. Dan was nestled between Phil's thighs, his back pressed against Phil's front. His fingers trailed across Phil's forearm absentmindedly. In the silence, Dan was sure he could hear Phil's heartbeat.

* * *

They were interrupted half an hour later by a scrawny fourth year carrying a large, golden egg. He yelped when he saw them, turning and fleeing back out of the door.

After much sniggering, they took it as a cue to get out – both resembling particularly shrivelled raisins. They dried off close together, shivering in the cold.

"Dan…" Phil said as he pulled on a sock. "While the hormones and stuff are still around, do you think we should just… go with it? I mean, like be together? A bit? Nothing more than kissing or anything because we're not gay. Well, maybe we're bi. I don't really know anymore. But just like, very affectionate friends? That's what it feels like, I think."

"Yeah, okay."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."


	6. The Yule Ball

_Dan's first Christmas at Hogwarts._

* * *

x

* * *

"So?" Chris asked, grabbing Phil's robes as he attempted to walk past Chris in the corridor.

Phil blanched. "What?"

"How was your romantic gardening trip with Dan? Come to think of it, how did you cope showering in the cubicle next to him? You struggle containing yourself when you're both clothed so I imagine it was pitiful." Chris grinned, pulling Phil into step beside him as they walked to charms.

"What are you talking about?" Phil said irritably. "You made us use the prefects' bathroom, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm assuming you used the showers rather than that big ol' romantic bathtub." Chris laughed.

"What showers?!" Phil said, his voice raising an octave.

Chris's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. "Oh my god." His expression was incredulous. "Did you share a bubble bath with Daniel Howell? _Thirteen_ year old Daniel Howell?"

"_What showers_?" Phil insisted. "And he's fourteen, he told me. He redid a year so he'll be fifteen in June, actually."

"The showers round the corner," Chris's face was alight with delight, a huge grin across his face. "You did didn't you. Please tell me you were naked as well. Oh my _god_."

"Well how else would we take a bath?!" Phil said defensively, his cheeks burning.

"Oh, I don't know. One at a time maybe? Or you know, you could have kept your boxers on or got some swimming trunks or something. Jesus Christ Phil," Chris shook his head in gleeful disbelief. "What happened? You're going to have to tell me everything."

"Nothing happened," Phil muttered, "We're not gay, we just shared a bath because we didn't see the showers."

"Right."

"I hate you. This is all your fault, I bet there weren't even any first years in the bathrooms."

"Course not. But that's what friends are for. Now, I'm going to ask you again, and this time you're going to tell me the truth. I can tell when you're lying, Philip." Chris grabbed Phil's face, staring intently into his eyes for a moment and scrutinizing. Suddenly, he whooped. "You did didn't you! I knew it! You and Dan Howell. You know Phil, I'd always known you were a little bit gay."

"I'm not gay," Phil moaned. "Nor's Dan. We just kissed. That's all I swear. It was more, experimental really, than anything else. We're just friends. Messing about. Very affectionate friends." Phil couldn't help but snigger a bit at the memory.

Chris's face looked like he'd just been told Christmas was coming early. "This is the best thing I've heard all year. My baby Phil is gayer than even I, and he's got some cute little toyboy to give him sensual bubble bath massages. I can't wait to tell _everyone_."

"No!" Phil yelped. "Don't you dare. Please Chris, don't do that, I think I'd die. We're _not _gay. We've both agreed. We, well, if you must know, we've decided to be sort of together until it wears off. Not as boyfriends or anything. Just like cuddly friends because neither of us have ever felt like this, it's not actual attraction or anything. It's probably just hormones…"

"Phil,"

"And like, we both know it's not like that. I mean it doesn't feel anything like it did with Suzie…"

"Phil,"

"Like I know what attraction feels like, this is completely different I swear…"

"_Phil_,"

"Me and Dan, we're just being friendly. We don't see each other much so we're just making the most of the time we have and not worrying too much about labels you know?"

"Phil."

"What?"

"You_ gaaaay_."

"I'm not gay!"

"You gay as _hell_."

"Chris! Have you been listening to anything I've said?"

"I've been listening, and honey you gaaaaaaay." Chris sung.

"_Chris._" Phil groaned.

"Listen up sonny, I'm about to give you some brotherly best friend advice." Chris grinned, pulling Phil to an abrupt stop and into a broom cupboard. Quickly, he lit his wand and closed the door behind them before anyone noticed. It smelled faintly of cleaning polish, and the air was musty.

Chris brushed a cobweb out of his hair and pointed his wand at Phil, illuminating his wide eyes. "We both know I've had a lot more experience in the love department, so unclog your ears and open your mind for a moment," The mocking tone had left his voice. "To prove I was listening, here are some choice quotes: 'none of us have ever felt like this' and 'it doesn't feel anything like it did with Suzie'. May I remind you that you were not happy with Suzie. That was not a happy or healthy relationship, and it ended badly, yet somehow you didn't seem too upset. That wasn't love. That wasn't even attraction I don't think, I mean, you had to ask _us_ if she was pretty or not. Your feelings for Daniel must be very strong, judging by the extent of your excitement and the incredible speed. Trust me, I've been in love with PJ Liguori for three years now. I know what it feels like. You may be bisexual, but you're not straight. The feelings you have for Dan are real – don't devalue them by pretending they don't matter. I've never seen two people fall for each other so quickly and so absolutely before, you've got something special, and you need to go into it knowing that so that you can both get the absolute most out of it because love sucks most of the time, and you've got lucky."

Phil was silent for a moment, shocked at the intensity of Chris's gaze.

"Are, are you sure?" He asked, his voice faltering.

"Positive. You have feelings for Dan, and he shares them. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Embrace the homosexuality." Chris's familiar grin returned to his face.

"Okay. Wow. Maybe you're right. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. What do I do now?" Phil's eyes were wide and slightly scared, and all of a sudden Chris pulled him into an embrace.

"I'm really happy for you okay," Chris said, his voice gruff. "You need to talk to him. You need to ask him out properly. And then you need to send a bit of your luck my way, because really you've had far too much."

Phil felt almost as if he should be tearing up. "Wow. This is emotional."

"Yep," Chris said, sniffing dramatically. "That's enough serious Chris for now. So, you've seen him naked now huh. How big is his dick?"

"_Chris_."

* * *

x

* * *

Christmas day dawned bright and clear, a fresh layer of snow settled on the grounds. A happy morning was spent eating reindeer shaped pancakes and exchanging presents. Dan had spent many hours learning a knitting spell, and had knitted Phil a long (if slightly lumpy in places) blue and green scarf, with tiny Christmas baubles at each end instead of tassels that jingled the tune of Jingle Bells as he walked. Dan had eventually given in and asked Phil for a wizards chess set but Phil, never content with normal, had bought him an 'Animals of the Forest' set – complete with unicorn knights and a long-haired mermaid queen.

Phil had helped Dan pick out simple things like sweets and quills for the rest of their group, and these were returned on the most part, but Chris had excelled himself and presented the new couple with a joint present: a huge box of Every Flavour Condoms.

Still recoiling in horror (and blanching slightly at the thought of vomit flavoured condoms), the large group set off cheerfully down to the Great Hall for Christmas lunch. Dan had knitted Chris a scarf too, almost blindingly hot pink, which he wore with pride and an occasional snigger. Dan had the feeling this was going to be the best Christmas he'd ever had. His parents had sounded upset when he'd told them he was staying, but he knew it would be a relief as they were planning to visit family in Wales - which they would have had to cut short to bring him back to Hogwarts in time for the start of term. Phil's parents were in the North Pole studying magnetic fields and the Northern Lights that had baffled muggles for years, while Chris's large family had all headed off to sunny Spain without him – much to his disgust. Carrie and Charlie had stayed too, and together they took their place on the one, huge table that had been pushed together in honour of the occasion.

A hundred, fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich, gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few inches along the table. Phil pulled a cracker with Chris and it went off with a blast, engulfing them in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear-admirals hat and several live, white mice. Up on the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read to him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey, Phil nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Dan watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, before finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek who, to Dan's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top had lop-sided.

When Dan and Phil finally left the table, they were laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of luminous balloons, a grow-your-own-warts kit and a brand new pointed wizard's hat that Dan absolutely did not trust to put on his head - mainly due to the strange blue smoke wafting from the tip with a strong smell of eggs. The white mice had disappeared, and Dan had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris' Christmas dinner.

The small group spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds. Then, cold, wet and gasping for breath, they returned to the crackling fire in the Hufflepuff common room. Full of turkey and cake however it wasn't long before they had drifted sleepily one by one back to their dormitories to nap before the ball. Dan lingered longest, curled up on the sofa in front of the fire with Phil.

"Mm too sleepy to go back. I'm gonna sleep here. Night night."

Phil chuckled, running his fingers gently through Dan's tangled, still damp hair. They were cuddled close together, Dan nestled comfortably against Phil's chest, Phil's legs entwined in Dan's.

"You'll get in trouble if you stay here," Phil said softly, his breath warm on Dan's neck.

"But I'm _warm_." Dan complained.

"Me too. You're like a cuddly little hot water bottle."

"Oi, I'm nearly as tall as you. And I'm still growing." Dan pouted.

"My little baby." Phil crooned, pretending to rock Dan in his arms.

Dan dissolved into giggles, too sleepy to open his eyes. "I'll go if you carry me."

"I'm not carrying you all the way to the dungeons, you're way too fat for me."

"Nah, you're just too scrawny. Maybe just levitate the sofa to my bed for me then."

"I would, but then I'd have to go with you and the corridors are really cold. You're going to have to get up and walk I'm afraid." Phil made no attempt to push Dan away however, holding him closer even.

"You're mean," Dan mumbled, "I don't have any shoes on."

"That's because you put them by the fire to dry, remember?"

"And then they caught fire because Chris is an idiot."

"And then I put them out because I am a magical genius."

"They smell funny now though, I don't want to put them on." Dan's voice was muffled by a puffy, red cushion.

"So you're going to walk all the way through those cold, stone corridors in your socks then?"

"No, you're going to carry me."

"No, I'm going to push you off onto the cold floor."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not, you're going to carry me to your bed so we can go to sleep without having to let go." Dan smiled happily into the fabric of the sofa.

"And you call me the soppy one." Phil rolled his eyes.

"Pleeeeease. It's Christmas! They won't punish us on Christmas."

"Do you think?"

"I think."

"Careful, you might hurt yourself."

"Shush you Mr fifth-year-amazing-magic-person."

"I'm not sure the other boys in my dorm would be too impressed though." Phil smiled.

"They're sleeping or out. They won't know. We'll be quiet as mice."

"Stop tempting me."

"Never."

Phil sighed, breathing in the sweet smell of Dan's hair. "You'll still have to go back to get changed for tonight, you realise."

"Yeeeey!"

"Shh!"

"Oww why do we have to get up."

"The bed is up a whole flight of stairs."

"No."

"Yes. I'm not carrying you. Come one."

"But it's cold!"

"Just think about how warm and cosy it will be in bed."

"Ow."

"Get up."

"I've lost a sock."

"Come on."

"No! The stone's too cold, I can't go up the stairs."

"Yes you can."

"No I can't, my foot hurts."

"Why does your foot hurt?"

"Sports injury."

Phil snorted. "I'm not carrying you, I'll probably brake both our backs falling down."

"I mean it Phil, I can't walk."

"Yes you can."

"I can't. I'm going to have to stay down here on my own all night, and when they ask me why I'm in the wrong house I'll tell them it's because I'm crippled but you were too heartless to help me."

"We are going to die."

"I'm flying Phil!"

* * *

They tumbled together into the four poster, Phil out of breath and red in the face. Quickly, Dan pulled the hangings around them as he noticed the shape in the next bed stir. Phil grinned, still panting, and tugged at Dan's robes to bring him crashing down into the bed with a soft thwump of fabric. Dan nuzzled into Phil's neck, squirming on the cold sheets. Phil was shivering too, pulling the blankets over them and pressing himself as much into Dan as Dan was pushing against Phil.

Phil kissed Dan's hair. Stray tendrils tickled his nose as he breathed, and he tried in vain to push the tousled mop away from his mouth as he spat out yet another one of Dan's soft, brown hairs. Dan was oblivious, his face buried into the warmth of Phil's neck. His breath was tickling the delicate skin, and Phil pushed him away with a giggle.

"You're so annoying," he murmured. "Spoon like a normal person. Backward spoons are very impractical."

Sure enough, Dan had curled into the foetal position while facing Phil – with the effect that his legs pushed Phil away from him and his knees dug painfully into Phil's stomach. With a sigh, Dan rolled over and let Phil wrap his arms around his waist. After a moment, he changed his mind and forcibly rolled them back over again so that he could be big spoon. Phil rolled his eyes, but smiled at the warm encasing of Dan's arms and the pressure of his body against his back. It felt incredibly safe somehow. Gently, he kissed Dan's hand.

Dan mumbled something inaudible in response, but already they were slipping into sleep.

* * *

x

* * *

"Shit, Dan, we've got half an hour before the ball. Wake up Dan!"

Dan mumbled something incoherent, rolling back over with a snore.

With a grim expression, Phil pressed his hands against Dan's shoulders and heaved – rolling him tumbling onto the floor in a tangle of bed curtains and sheets.

Somewhere in the mess, Dan swore groggily. "I hate you."

"Wake up," Phil said urgently. "We've got half an hour to get ready, and you still have to get back to your dormitory."

Dan groaned loudly. Ignoring him, Phil tugged off his crumpled clothes and searched frantically for his dress robes. They were coal black, with simple blue trimming and detailing. He struggled half-heartedly with bowtie, before giving up and smoothing down the collar of his pale blue shirt. Before he could cast aside the scrap of navy fabric however, slender hands were at his neck, tying the bow expertly and pulling it tight.

"Looking dapper, Philip." Dan's voice was low, still hoarse with sleep, and Phil shivered.

"You need to go get ready," Phil replied, pulling his cloak around his shoulders. "We now have twenty minutes. I want my date looking sharp."

Dan's smile faded, replaced with an expression of uncertainty rippled with lines of anxiety.

"Oh god. Are you sure I can come? There's no way of hiding it, third years are only allowed if they've got a date. There's no way we can pass this off as platonic."

Phil shrugged. "Technically, it's about the age thing so you're a fourth year. Don't worry. You look a lot older, I don't think anyone will think we're together – they'll think you're my year probably."

Dan nodded, but the worry was still in his eyes. "I'm gonna look like such a prick in my dress robes."

Phil grinned. "I can't wait. I haven't seen them yet, are they awful? I reckon you'll look fine whatever they are. You're pretty hot, you know. No one will even notice."

This had the desired effect, and Dan's cheeks reddened. He smiled, kissed Phil quickly on the cheek, and slipped down the stairs in his pink kitten patterned socks to fetch his shoes.

* * *

x

* * *

Dan was waiting for Phil at the bottom of the marble stairs, pulling fretfully at his black, shiny bowtie.

"Daniel," Phil said as he drew closer, squinting. "Is that a _leather bowtie_?_"_

Dan grinned guiltily. "Maybe. Oh god. I'm stupidly nervous. Why am I here?! I'm really not a party person anyway. What are we going to do if they make us dance Phil? We can't dance together. Well, I can't dance at all-"

He was cut off suddenly as Phil pressed a finger against his lips with a 'shush'.

"Stop. It's going to be fun. I promise. And if you're not having fun, we can escape. Don't worry – they're not going to point their wands at us and make us dance. By the way, you look gorgeous." Phil made a show of looking Dan up and down, and Dan blushed.

His dress robes were sleek and black, the fabric thinner somehow than everyone else's. It rippled and swished deliciously as he moved. The cloak was sealed with an ornate but subtle silver clasp, and the robes were trimmed with silver thread and intricate embroidery that glittered in the light. He fiddled awkwardly with his cufflinks, his face downturned in embarrassment, and Phil giggled as he took his arm and dragged him into the Great Hall.

The walls had been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred, smaller, lantern-lit tables, each seating a dozen people. Dan and Phil joined the thronging crowd, searching on tiptoes for their friends. All at once the buzz of voices swelled and the crowd parted to let the four champions through. It was easy to see how these people had been chosen above everyone else; they couldn't possibly be human. Radiating beauty poured off all four couples (with the exception possibly of a scrawny, black haired Gryffindor who blushed furiously when he spotted them – having last stumbled across the pair with considerably less clothing on). They made their way up to the top table with a sweeping of long robes and eight graceful gaits.

Phil caught sight of Chris at a table and led Dan over quickly before the spare seats could be filled. To Dan's delight, Chris was still wearing his pink scarf – concealed not so subtly under his robes. He thrust his chest out with a wink when he saw Dan, highlighting the shock of pink all the more. It was at this moment however that Professor Dumbledore swept past, in robes of shimmering silver, and he crooked his head ever so slightly to murmur 'nice scarf' as he passed. Chris glowed as pink as the wool around his neck, and sat down abruptly.

Carrie's robes were not so much robes as a red and white polka dot dress that spread out in a full circle as she spun. Her hair was shining and her lips were as red as her dress, and Phil grinned to see a skinny Durmstrang boy at her arm.

"It's Alex, right?" Phil said, shaking his hand.

Alex was wearing robes of shocking black and white in geometric patterns that gave Dan a headache as he stared. He had a bright blue bowtie and a tight fitting maroon waistcoat under his robes, and Carrie was positively beaming as she pulled her chair closer to him. He laughed easily and loudly, and his smile seemed to be contagious.

The meal was delicious of course, but Dan had the feeling most of the hall were still full from Christmas lunch, as many of the plates were left half full with their owners eyeing the untasted wonders sadly yet hopelessly. Up next however was what Dan had allowed Phil to drag him here for: the Weird Sisters had been booked to perform, and as everyone got excitedly to their feet the band traipsed on stage to a rapturous applause.

They were all incredibly hairy, and were wearing black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. The champions assembled somewhat reluctantly in the centre of the room, and they struck up a mournful tune. It wasn't long before teachers and students alike were slipping nervously on to the dance floor, rotating tentatively and blushing furiously at their dates. Carrie and Alex were dancing enthusiastically, but apparently to a completely different song to the one playing, and Chris wasted no time in starting a conga line.

Charlie stood with Dan and Phil, watching the show. Dan hadn't really had much of a chance to get to know Charlie, but from his floppy fringe and gentle, quiet nature, Dan knew they'd get along.

"Are you two going to dance?" He asked with a smile.

"Nah, we don't want to, you know..." Phil shrugged.

"I think you should," Charlie said. "No one's going to say anything with all the teachers here. It's the best time to do it really, it gives time for people to get used to it."

Phil turned uncertainly to Dan.

Dan shook his head, his eyes wide. "I can't actually dance, so it really wouldn't work."

"It's up to you of course, but you shouldn't waste your evening just standing at the edge of it all. Enjoy yourself. It's not every year you get to go to a ball." With that, Charlie had excused himself and made his was over to a table full of Gryffindors.

Phil turned to Dan. "What do you reckon? I can't dance either, but he's right."

Dan still looked unsure, but Phil took his hand. "There," he said softly. "That's the worst of it over with. Will you take this dance?"

Suddenly, Dan grinned. The magic of Christmas and the free, bubbling atmosphere seemed to have gone to his head and he took Phil's other hand, letting him lead them right out to the centre of the dance floor. They stared at each other for a moment, standing close, then Dan rested his hands gently in the soft curves of Phil's waist. Slowly, they began to dance, and all around them couples twirled.

People stared, and a few whispered comments to their friends, but it wasn't as bad as Dan had thought. Perhaps they were given a wider berth than the other couples, but that was probably because no one wanted to risk getting trampled by their terrible dancing.

Two girls in pink, floaty robes stopped dead in the floor to stare. They made no attempt to hide their disgust, and struck up a loud and pointed conversation about the 'type of repulsive practices Hogwarts allowed to carry on these days'; but their discussion was cut short abruptly as Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall tangoed very determinedly towards them, forcing them to scatter to avoid being run over. It might have been his imagination, but Dan was sure Dumbledore flashed him a wink as he passed.

* * *

After a particularly vigorous number, they retreated flushed in the face to find a drink. Chris was at the table, talking animatedly to two identical ginger haired twins. Dan and Phil and made their introductions, gulping back icy punch that slid deliciously down their throats. They were just discussing the strange, lute-like instrument one of the band members were playing when the colour drained abruptly from Chris's cheeks. He was frozen to the spot, apparently completely paralysed, staring wide eyed and open mouthed at something over Dan's shoulder.

"Oh my god." He whispered.

Dan whipped round.

Heading straight towards them was none other than PJ Liguori, cloaked in midnight blue robes and a tight fitting black shirt. His skin was gloriously tanned and his hair somehow seemed even more luscious than usual. He ignored Dan and Phil, stopping instead directly in front of Chris, his green eyes glittering in the candlelight. His lips spread into a heart melting crooked grin, and he looked steadily into Chris's eyes.

His voice was low and husky and impossibly rich.

"Would you like to dance?"

* * *

x

x

x

* * *

**_Note: I wrote Alex into this story before the recent allegations about him emerged, you might have noticed I've already taken Tom out and if anything else about Alex comes out then I think I'll remove him too. _**

**_Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewing, you literally brighten my day okay ily all_**


	7. The Morning After the Night Before

Phil awoke in a groggy haze. Comprehension came slowly, as if he was dragging it up from the very depths of the lake with a heavy weight tied to one end. There was something sticky in his hair and his limbs were tangled in thick fabric. Come to think of it, not all the limbs he could feel were his own. He frowned, and attempted to move his head. This was a bad mistake, as the position he had been sleeping in was physically improbable and the movement sent a shooting pain down his spine. He groaned as he tried to stretch out the aching stiffness. There was someone else's hair tickling his nose and someone else's arm almost suffocating him where it was wound around his neck. He frowned, his eyes still too heavy to open, as he tried to recall the night before.

They had drunk a lot of butterbeer. He remembered clearly the cheerful, giddy tingling and the warmth in his fingers. He remembered Chris and PJ. Chris had been shaking in terror as they'd taken to the floor, his eyes wider and more innocent than Phil could ever have imagined. PJ had chuckled his deep, throaty chuckle and taken his waist, sending visible shivers down Chris's spine. He had jolted where they touched, his face draining of colour and then flooding red again all of a sudden.

Dan and Phil had watched, hand in hand, as Chris had melted into PJ's arms with an expression of upmost bliss, and they had been painfully close to tearing up. Chris had seemed completely unable to let go of PJ all night, clutching at his robes as if afraid he would vanish into a hallucination if he broke physical contact. PJ had taken it all very amicably however, and had introduced himself warmly to the group from Chris's arm.

From then on it was all a bit of a blur. He remembered Chris and PJ disappearing for half an hour without a word and returning with rosy cheeks and stumbling limbs, having somehow procured a large quantity of elderflower wine which they were hiding not so inconspicuously under their robes. As the party raged on and various meads and liquors were brought out for the of-age students, the staff seemed to turn a blind eye to the tipsy fifth years in the corner; however it seemed they weren't the only group with good foraging skills and they were forced to vacate speedily to the grounds when a fourth year threw up violent green vomit in the middle of the dance floor and the teachers were suddenly spurred into action.

The fairy garden provided a high pitched and squealing game of catch and Phil distinctly remembered a steamy make out session behind a rose bush. He wasn't sure exactly how they had brought the night to a close, but as he carefully unstuck each eye he was about to find out.

He was in his own bed, which was a pleasant surprise, but the hangings had been torn down almost completely on one side and were now tangled hopelessly. Dan was lying almost on top of him, breathing gently, his hair curled and mussed. Carefully, Phil manoeuvred an arm out from under Dan and tried to shake some feeling back into it. He lifted up his head (with a hiss of pain) to find the owner of the third pair of legs that were caught in the fabric.

Chris lay curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows (and bed curtains) on the floor, with his arms firmly wrapped around PJ Liguori. His mouth was fixed in a smile, his face half hidden in PJ's hair, his long legs somehow still elevated up on the bed as if the pair had fallen off at some point in the night. Phil grinned fondly. Careful not to impose the same fate on Dan, he began the slow and intensely painful process of untangling himself.

He was just attempting to clean up a curious doughnut shaped bruise on his thigh with a jar of Star Grass Salve when he heard a whisper from the floor.

"Phil, Phil help. Where's my wand?" Chris hissed.

"Why do you need your wand?" Phil asked, amused. Chris's hair was sticking up comically and his eyes were wide.

"I need to fix myself up before PJ wakes up. Please Phil, this is urgent. My mouth tastes like I've been licking dragon balls."

"Your hair need a bit of work too." Phil giggled.

Chris groaned. "Shit Phil, is it on the bed somewhere? It's not in my robes and I can't see it on the floor."

"I'll look," Phil whispered, rummaging through the mess of fabrics. His movement stirred Dan however, who sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

"Ow?" He said.

Phil laughed. "How you feeling?"

"Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt?"

"How's your head?" Chris asked sympathetically. "But shush please, I don't want to wake this here fallen angel - whom I seem to have woken up next to. It's a miracle. I may still be dreaming though, I haven't decided yet."

Dan grinned down at him. "My head is fine. A bit heavy maybe. Congrats Christos, about bloody time."

Chris beamed. Beside him, PJ shifted.

"My wand Phil, quick!" Chris said softly yet urgently.

"Here,"

"Thanks. Oh god. My head hurts. What's the spell?"

"Erm, try 'Ora Recentes'." Phil murmured.

Chris whispered hurriedly, pointing his wand at his mouth, and was jet-propelled backwards into the pillows with a thump.

"Chris?" Phil gasped. "You okay?"

"Fine," Chris's voice was muffled by the fabric. "I think I might literally have exploded a whole mint tree in my mouth. But fine."

Phil giggled quietly. "Now you really do need to fix your hair."

Chris was running generous quantities of Wizard's Sculpting Gel through his hair with his fingers when PJ rolled over with a yawn. He opened his eyes blearily, stretching his long arms above his head and twisting on the floor before smiling up at Chris.

Dan shook his head in disbelief. Somehow, despite having just woken up, PJ still managed to pull off the rugged, ruffled and helplessly attractive look perfected only by the models in Witch Weekly. His smile was warm and there was a light in his eye, as if slightly amused by what he was seeing. He yawned again, uncurling his legs to stretch and it was only then that Dan realised just how ridiculously long PJ's legs were – his socks were protruding out from the other side of the double bed.

There was a strange, choking noise from the floor and Dan raised his eyebrows at Chris. His face had gone almost completely white and his mouth was hanging open as he stared at PJ's gangly frame. PJ had heard too, and he turned to Chris with concern in his sparkling green eyes.

"You okay?" He frowned, propping himself up on one elbow to rub Chris's shoulder.

The contact was too much for Chris, and he keeled over in a dead faint.

* * *

x

* * *

Dan and Phil teased Chris mercilessly all the way down to breakfast. PJ had refused to leave until Chris finally managed to convince him that he really was okay ("It's just the hangover, you know, because I just woke up and I'm dehydrated and stuff. I'm fine I swear, I don't need to go to Madam Pomfrey. Shut up Dan. I'm fine Peej, I swear.") before heading off to the Ravenclaw dormitories to get changed. Chris decided to complete his walk of shame and went down to the Great Hall in his crumpled dress robes, but only after Phil had insisted on spraying him with a rose essence spell before he would stand next to him.

When PJ wandered in, looking sharp again with a group of his friends, Chris buried his head in shame. To his horror, PJ abandoned his friends and sat down next to Chris with a grin – grabbing a stack of toast.

"I'm starving," he said. "I swear, butter and toast is the single best hangover cure."

Beside him, Chris just whimpered.

Dan had never drunk in any quantity before, and consequently he felt fit as a fiddle – which is more than can be said for Phil, who was slowly but surely developing a pounding headache. His head had sunk onto the table and he was groaning quietly, his eyes screwed tightly shut against the bright morning sky. All around the Hall students and teachers alike were in similarly delicate states. Professor McGonagall was wincing every time Hagrid set down his heavy tankard of water, while the arithmancy teacher, Professor Vector, was snoring loudly into a bowl of porridge.

PJ seemed a little sleepy but otherwise cheery, and he was talking animatedly about the Ball, seemingly oblivious to Chris's frozen figure at his side. He turned to Chris with a question.

"To be honest a lot of last night is blurry. It definitely happened though, Chris, do you remember when those pissed as newts sixth years tried to ride the Beauxbatons horses?"

"Huh?" Chris said stupidly, his eyes glazed.

PJ's eyebrows creased. "Are you _sure _you're okay? You look really ill."

"I'm fine, seriously," Chris blushed. "Just a bit out of it. Because, you know, I'm really tired."

"I know how you feel," PJ said with a yawn. "I don't think we picked the comfiest sleeping spot. Any idea how we ended up in Phil's dormitory? I guess we're all from different houses which is a pain. Anyway – I was talking about when those three sixth year idiots tried to levitate themselves on top of the Beauxbatons horses. I reckon they're still in the hospital wing, those bruises would have been nasty. They're lucky they didn't get trampled to death to be honest, one kick to the head and they would have been gonners."

Chris nodded. "Yeah, I remember. PJ, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

Chris took a deep breath and forced himself to look into those shimmering green eyes. "What happened, with us, last night? I'm feeling kinda tender at the moment and I've been trying really hard to remember but like thinking makes my head hurt."

PJ laughed. "Nothing, don't worry. We just danced a bit and messed around because like, we were drunk and having a laugh."

"Ah, good. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't pregnant."

PJ's chuckle was mellow and lifted a smile into everyone's cheeks. "To be honest, I was kinda nervous about asking you to dance. I'd been watching you all night. You're really funny, you know. I was just like 'I wanna be friends with that kid' but I wasn't sure how you'd react to the whole dancing thing. I mean, I didn't know if you were straight or not."

"Oh," Chris said, surprised. He was silent for a moment, digesting this information, his eyes slightly alarmed. "Oh," He said again. "I didn't know you weren't. That's why I asked really, I mean, I'm not. I'm like – I don't really know really. Actually."

PJ sniggered. Beside him, Dan and Phil exchanged an amused glance.

"I'm probably bisexual, but I'm not worrying too much." PJ replied with a smile.

"Oh. That's good. Does that mean we can have threesomes?" Chris seemed to be recovering his composure at the speed of a galloping hippogriff, colour spreading to his cheeks and a smile growing steadily on his lips.

"Yes please. Lots of threesomes. Foursomes too. In fact, let's just organize an orgy." PJ winked.

* * *

Chris spent most of the rest of the day walking around as if he'd just one the lottery. Not even PJ heading back over to re-join his friends at the Ravenclaw table could dampen his spirits, and he walked with a spring in his step that soon became infuriating to the grumpy and aching Phil.

"Oh my god. Can you go take your happiness somewhere else please. I am no longer happy for you in any way, you're so annoying." He muttered after Chris had attempted a little jump of joy but lost his footing on the staircase and tumbled into Phil.

Chris responded by bursting into a cheerful chorus of 'Happy as a Hippogriff' and wrapping Phil in a bear hug.

* * *

"What do you think it means though?"

"I really don't know, Chris." Phil said tiredly. It felt like the hundredth time they had analysed PJ's words to Chris, but he ploughed onwards once more.

"I mean, he was joking about threesomes. Does that mean he likes me? He came and sat next to me and everything but I don't know where that puts us, you know? I mean, he said he was nervous about asking me to dance. But after you've danced with someone does that mean you're seeing each other or what? I wish he'd just propose already." Chris sighed dramatically.

Phil looked at Dan, as if to say 'your turn', and Dan sighed. "We've been through this Chris, we don't know what it meant. I reckon just take it as it comes. He seems pretty friendly towards you, but until it's anything more you shouldn't let yourself worry."

Chris ran his fingers through his hair. "I know but like, there was lots of hugging. And hand holding. Does that mean he likes me? Or was it like he said, drunk and messing about? Just because he's bisexual doesn't mean he doesn't have a preference for girls. He probably doesn't like me, I mean he only said he wanted to be 'friends' with me and if he wanted more surely he'd have said it?"

"I don't know, Chris."

"He's so hard to read. There were times last night where I swear I thought he was going to kiss me. And he came over to sit with us this morning. Like, he sat next to me specifically. Does that means friends or something more? And what did he mean about the threesomes bit?"

"I really don't know, Chris."

"I mean obviously it was a joke, but surely he wouldn't have said that if he'd meant just friends? And why did he tell me he was bisexual unless he thought it would matter?"

"I really, really, _really,_ do not know Christopher."

"He's so fucking beautiful. And his laugh. He laughs all the time. Making him laugh is the best feeling in the world."

"Yeah,"

"The things he says are so funny and so smooth and so abstract. He's got like, a massively creative mind. I'm just in awe. He doesn't like me, I'm sure of it. I'm such an idiot compared to him. I mean, he's in Ravenclaw and everything. What do you think he meant about the threesomes though?"

"Jesus Christ."

* * *

x

* * *

"Oh my god, Chris, just ask him on a date!" Dan threw up his arms in exasperation.

Chris fell suddenly silent, frozen on the chair. "I can't do that. Can I?"

"Yes, yes you can. That's exactly what you should do. That's probably why he came over. You know, because he made the first move so now it's your turn. He probably was really nervous like 'right, now to see if he feels the same' and then you didn't even do the old 'I really enjoyed spending time with you last night' classic. He's probably heartbroken. You should ask him to do something with you."

"Do you really think?" Chris asked, horrified.

"I really think. In fact, go do it now. Go on. I saw him in the library like ten minutes ago."

"I can't."

"You can."

"I really can't Dan. What if I pass out again?"

"Then maybe he'll panic and give you the kiss of life."

"Fuck off Dan."

"Fuck PJ, Chris."

"I'm trying."

"Not very hard."

"Oh god. I can't do it."

"You can. I will come with you."

"Will you?"

"Yes. Let's go."

"What, now?!"

"Yes, now. The longer you leave it the more he'll think you're not interested."

"I can't do it Dan."

"Yes you can. Come on."

"Get off me! No, I can't oh my god Dan let go I can't do it!"

"I'll do it for you if I have to."

"No, Dan don't you dare, I hate you so much, what if he- oh. Hey Peej." Chris's voice jumped three octaves into a squeak as he almost walked straight into PJ in the corridor.

"Oh, hey guys. How you doing?" PJ's expression was warm, and his eyes flickered to Chris.

"Good thanks Peej, Chris wanted to ask you something," Dan smiled serenely.

"No I didn't." Chris hissed.

"Yes you do. Go on. I'll turn around and pretend I can't hear if you want." Dan said stubbornly.

Chris opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish. PJ waited patiently, an amused grin playing across his lips.

"Chris…"

"I'm doing it, shut up Dan. I hate you so much. Oh God. Um, yeah, Peej. I, er…"

"I'm on a bit of a tight schedule here Chris my boy, I may have to hurry you." PJ laughed.

"Yes, I, um, sorry yeah. The thing is. I was wondering if you wanted to… I mean I totally understand if not don't get me wrong here I'm not suggesting… just like, I mean, you know nothing serious or anything, just like, to get to know each other and stuff… I mean, I don't mean like-"

Chris was cut off abruptly as PJ leaned forwards in one swift motion, taking Chris's cheek in his hand and pulling their lips together into a kiss. Gently, PJ pulled away, the amused smile still in place.

"Oh." Chris said.


	8. Valentine's at Puddifoot's

_A totally romantic trip to Hogsmeade_

* * *

New Year passed in a swirling explosion of fireworks and celebrations. The lake was glittering with the reflections of a thousand sparkling colours as Dan's lips crashed into Phil's and Chris's pressed against PJ's. At least, that's how they told it the next day. In reality, Dan and Phil had both been so caught up in the beauty of the fireworks that they completely forgot about a New Year's Kiss until the last flecks of gold and scarlet had faded into the smoky sky. Dan had yelped suddenly and, in such a hurry to kiss Phil, had missed his lips completely and nearly gouged Phil's eye out.

Chris and PJ had been a little way down the jetty, oblivious to everyone else, hand in hand as they stared out across the black water. When the gong struck twelve, Chris had launched himself at PJ. He had however been expecting far more resistance, and ended up toppling them both over into the lake – crashing straight through the thin layer of ice and into the freezing water. Maybe their lips touched in the frantic thrashing of limbs and tangled fabric that followed, but it certainly hadn't been as romantic as Chris had planned. Dripping wet, shivering violently and both slightly blue under the stars, Chris had taken PJ's hand once more.

"Yeah, um, sorry about that. I didn't realise you were tying your shoelace. Anyway. Will you go out with me?"

"I hate you so much."

"Is that a yes?"

"There's a crab in your hair."

"Great. Excellent. Love you Peej."

"Love you crabhead."

* * *

x

* * *

The foursome saw in the New Year in the hospital wing, pleasantly cheerful if a little disgruntled at having missed the party. Dan hid not so inconspicuously under Phil's blankets as madam Pomfrey made her rounds. She seemed not to have noticed, but handed the three patients four mugs of hot chocolate without a word.

"Aw, do we have to stay here? We're fine I swear." Chris whined.

"You two boys will have to stay at least twelve hours under observation. If you'd come to me straight away you might have been okay with a strong warming draft, but running around in wet robes in this weather! Think of your exams boys, you cannot afford to catch a chill at this crucial stage. Phil can go if he wants, but I'm happy to keep him here in case of infection."

Of course Phil stayed, with Dan nestled comfortably pressed up against the warmth of his stomach. At some point in the night, PJ's bed was mysteriously vacated, and when Madam Pomfrey bustled in the next day with breakfast she tsked loudly.

"For goodness sake. You could at least have put a pillow under your blankets to make it look like you tried. _Boys._" With a shake of the head, she dumped four plates of steaming sausages on a tray.

"He gets nightmares, Miss." Chris said innocently.

"Oh really?" Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. "I have just the thing for that. Don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I'll go get some Sleep Soother now. I've heard it tastes like faecal matter, and clearly you have a severe case so you'll need at least half a flask."

PJ paled visibly. "Has it been twelve hours yet?"

* * *

x

* * *

They had been seeing each other for several months, but for some reason Valentine's Day descended on Dan and Phil in a cloud of awkwardness. They met in the Entrance Hall, joining the crowd of slowly shuffling crowd of students being signed out by Filch, and Phil realised only too late that he probably should have taken Dan's hand. They'd agreed to buy presents for each other in Hogsmeade and spend the day just the two of them.

"This feels weird," Dan muttered.

"I know," Phil agreed. "I think it's because we've never been on a date before, like, we have, but we've never said it was a date. It's Valentine's Day though, there's no avoiding it. To be honest, I haven't got a clue what we're supposed to do."

"Me neither. I reckon we should follow them – they look like they know what they're doing." Dan gestured at Cedric Diggory and his pretty girlfriend, a little way ahead of them.

"Good idea," Phil nodded. "Let's just copy whatever they do."

Cedric and Cho made for a small, pokey looking coffee shop as they entered Hogsmeade, and Dan relaxed slightly.

"Coffee, I can do that." Dan said, relieved.

Phil grinned. The February air was chill and he slipped his cold hands into Dan's woollen mittens. "These are cute. Did you get addicted to that knitting spell?"

Dan flinched against Phil's icy touch, curling his own fingers around Phil's in the warm cocoon. "You're like an icicle. Why didn't you wear gloves?"

"You haven't knitted me any yet."

Dan rolled his eyes. "You say _I'm_ addicted. Alright, but I'm not sure how well I can do fingers, they look fiddly. You might get six by accident."

The little teashop was cramped and steamy, and everything seemed to have been decorated with frills and bows.

"Um, cute." Dan said with a wince.

"Yeah…"

Dan and Phil squeezed themselves into a cosy window table, brushing pink confetti off the chairs so that they could sit down. The candle in the centre of the table was violent pink, with a single red flame that twisted into a smoky heart. It smelled strongly of strawberry jam, and Dan wrinkled up his nose.

"Well. I guess it's, er, romantic."

Phil picked up a menu with a giggle. "I think I'm going to get the Lover's Hot Chocolate with extra marshmallows."

"Interesting," Dan raised an eyebrow. "What do you reckon makes it a 'Lover's' hot chocolate, as opposed to a normal one?"

The difference, it transpired, was in colour. The tall mug was filled with a sickly lavender liquid that looked nothing remotely like chocolate, and Phil prodded somewhat doubtfully at the fluffy pink marshmallows. Dan had gone for a straight coffee, but it had been served in a heart shaped mug which probably not the most convenient shape to drink out of.

Phil sniggered as Dan spilled hot coffee down himself for the second time.

"Shut up," Dan complained. "How's your purple gloop?"

"Surprisingly tasty. How are the pink sugar cubes?"

"Strawberry flavoured."

"Ah."

Dan and Phil only had eyes for each other, mostly because the rest of the shop was filled exclusively with couples glued together in sloppy kisses or crooning embraces.

"They're letting their lovely drinks get cold." Dan said in a stage whisper.

Phil snorted into his hot chocolate. "Oh god. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this. Don't suppose you fancy ditching the singing cherubs and finding Chris and Peej?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

x

* * *

The Hog's Head couldn't have been more different. A battered, wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of the severed head of a wild boar, leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. The pub consisted of one, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that may have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted in grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead by the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. Clearly, the landlord had made no attempt to decorate for Valentine's Day.

The floor seemed at first glance to be earth, but as Phil stepped onto it he realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoky, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth. Two figures, shrouded in hoods, sat at one of the window tables. Phil might have thought them dementors if it hadn't been for their strong Yorkshire accents.

The pub was a lot quieter than The Three Broomsticks, and Phil felt the urge to whisper.

"Do you see Chris and Peej?"

"No… wait, yes – there they are. The corner by the fireplace."

Chris and PJ were deep in conversation, their chairs pushed close together, and Dan was starting to regret their decision to join them unannounced. Phil seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as when he approached the table it was with false surprise in his tone.

"Hey, fancy seeing you two in here! We're exploring. It's er, alternative, huh?"

The couple seemed not to mind the intrusion however, and quickly shuffled up to allow Dan and Phil to sit down at the rickety table.

"It has a certain charm to it." Chris acknowledged with a grin.

The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man, with a great deal of grey hair.

"What?" He grunted.

"Two butterbeers, please." Said Phil.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up two dusty, very dirty looking bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Four sickles."

Phil passed over the silver, and the old man retreated once more into a dark passageway.

"You know," Chris murmured, peering over the bar at the rows of suspicious looking glass bottles. "I bet that bloke would sell us firewhisky."

PJ raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that's a good idea, Christos?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You missed out on Katie Bell's birthday party," PJ said to Dan with a grin. "She's in our year, on the Gryffindor team with Chris so he got a plus one. Oh god. Phil, did you see the thing with the canary creams?"

"No? What happened?!" Phil leaned forwards eagerly as Chris groaned and covered his face in his hands.

"Chris ate four. At once. We were caring for a drunk canary for half an hour. You know how birds regurgitate their food, right?"

"Oh, god."

PJ was clearly enjoying himself, ignoring Chris's groans. "Even after he'd lost all his feathers he was still a mess. He threw up on the birthday cake and tried to make out with Angelina."

"I thought it was you!" Chris protested.

"Yeah, right. She was wearing a blue dress. She's also black."

"It was dark."

"Just face it crab boy, you're the worst boyfriend ever."

"That's not fair. I said sorry loads."

"And then you threw up on me."

"Well, yeah, that might have ruined the effect somewhat. It was an accident! You got me back though, you made out with both the twins at once." Chris folded his arms grumpily.

"Well since we were all canaries at the time I don't think it really counts. You can't do much kissing with a beak. Anyway, you're just jealous. You've always loved redheads." PJ winked.

"I like _your _stupid fat head. Even though you're really annoying like, 100% of the time."

"I must love you too, because I wasted half my night and all of the next day looking after you."

Chris reddened a bit. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did, you were hanging off my arm begging me to make you better."

"Oh god, you're making it sound so awful. Don't listen to him, Dan. He was drunk too. So was everyone. I was by no means the worst. It's Katie's fault for inviting all the sixth and seventh years."

Dan laughed as PJ wrapped his arms around Chris's skinny shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head to show he wasn't serious.

"What about you, Phil? You haven't told me any of this – is that because you embarrassed yourself too?" Dan raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't you heard?!" Chris said gleefully. "Phil put on a dress and proposed to McGonagall."

* * *

x

* * *

They left Chris and PJ at Zonkos and headed further into the residential part of the village, exploring the quaint little houses and winding roads. February had washed away the snow with rain and as they walked it started to drizzle.

"Wanna go back?" Phil asked. "We don't want to be caught miles away from shelter if it starts to tip it down."

Dan shrugged. "There's trees over there, and the sky's only a little bit grey. I reckon we'll be alright. Let's keep going."

They walked hand in hand down the cobbled path, making their way towards the hill at the edge of the village where the Shrieking Shack stood, balanced precariously on the steep slope. It didn't look haunted. It seemed to Dan to be rather sad and old, drooping at the edges with vacant windows and an empty heart.

"Who do you think lived there?" He asked.

"No idea," Phil said. "Someone with weird taste in architecture. I know who built it, but it's ben habituated again a couple of times I think before it was properly abandoned."

"Can you go inside?"

"No, I don't think so anyway. It's supposed to be really dangerous."

Dan nodded thoughtfully. "Apparently it's been silent for years though, maybe the ghosts have moved on."

Phil turned to Dan, slightly alarmed. "We're not going in there. Haven't you heard the stories?"

"Not many, muggleborn remember? Wanna tell me a ghost story?" Dan gave Phil's hand a teasing squeeze, but Phil grinned.

"Alright. There's one my mum used to tell me when we'd come up to visit my brother and sister at Hogwarts. So there's this guy, Hengist of Woodcroft, he founded Hogsmeade in like medieval times after being driven out of his muggle home for being magic and stuff. He was a Hufflepuff, actually. Anyway. He lived in the three broomsticks and he had a brother named Horsa who moved to Hogsmeade later and built the Shrieking Shack. Hengist wasn't impressed though because all the houses in the village are small and friendly and it was meant to be a cute little village, but Horsa built this massive house right at the edge overlooking everyone. Hengist was like some fat redhead German guy – you know, the type you don't piss off - and one day he decided to try get his brother to open up his house as an inn or something so he wasn't so cut off from everyone. Horsa refused of course, and Hengist stopped talking to him for ages because he never came down from the hill."

They were a lot closer now, Dan could see the detail of the mangled shutters on the windows.

"Anyway, Horsa became a recluse and everyone just sort of left him alone. Hengist tried to visit a few times, but Horsa wouldn't open the doors so eventually he gave up. No one had seen Horsa in years. That's when the first villager went missing. He was young, only about twenty, and he'd just moved in when he vanished without a trace. Of course, there was a massive search and investigation and stuff, but nothing was ever found of him. He didn't have any family or anything so eventually they gave up searching and decided he'd just moved away without telling anyone. Another year passed, and all was peaceful. But then it happened again." Phil was getting into the story now, his hands deep in his pockets.

"This time it was a barmaid from The Three Broomsticks, and she had a lot of friends and family and stuff so the search was a lot more thorough. The found nothing. She didn't leave a note, and she didn't even take her wand with her so she couldn't have gone far. Like, she couldn't have apparated or anything but they never found her. That winter, a third villager went missing – only this time there was snow, and for the first time in twenty years there were tracks leading up to the Shrieking Shack. Of course, the villagers had never liked Horsa because he had this massive house and stuff so they jumped to conclusions and, led by Hengist, stormed up the hill to pay a visit to old Horsa. They broke down the door and when they found him they were horrified, because he should have been eighty but he looked no older than thirty and everyone flipped. Hengist accused him of using dark magic to steal the life forces of villagers… and this bit's weird. Horsa didn't say anything. He just stood there in his dressing gown staring at his brother. The villagers were all hyped up for a fight, and his lack of reaction made them all the angrier and they jumped on him, killing him within seconds. With their bare hands. Hengist was grief stricken and tried to persuade anyone who'd listen that Horsa didn't do it, but no one believed him. There wasn't any evidence, but there wasn't any other explanation either. The guilt and search for answers drove Hengist crazy, and he eventually returned to the Shack and killed himself. That was the end of it, the peaceful villagers decided never to speak of it again and Hengist kept his status as the loved and worshipped founder of Hogsmeade. No one else went missing, and the Shack was silent for years and years. And then the screaming started."

There was silence for a moment, as Dan stared at Phil. "Well? Did he do it?"

Phil shrugged. "No one knows. Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't. It was dark. I don't think they could really have seen his face clearly. It was mob mentality. I like to think he was innocent. My mum used to say the screams weren't the German brothers, they were the ghosts of all the villagers that caused their death; finally returning to the shack out of curiosity and discovering the truth."

"I know the name though. He's on the chocolate frog cards isn't he?"

"Hengist? Yeah. You don't hear much about Horsa though. That's why it's such a good story. There are more though, loads more. The building's basically where everything creepy that ever happened in Hogsmeade's history took place. There's supposed to be loads of super violent ghosts now from all different periods of history, hanging out and yelling a lot." Phil grinned. They were leaning against the fence that blocked the path that lead right up to the building now, staring out through the thin mist.

"That's pretty cool," Dan mused. "You'll have to tell me more of them. I love ghost stories. Much better than confetti hearts."

Phil laughed. "Oh god, this is so romantic isn't it?"

"It's much more us," Dan grinned. "I'd rather be here than Puddifoot's any day. It's more original, right?"

Phil sniggered. "Yup. I certainly don't see any other adoring couples."

"Are we a couple now then? Like, a proper one? I know we'd said we'd just see how it goes and stuff but like, you know."

Phil smiled gently. "Dan Howell. Will you be my proper, actual boyfriend?"

"Yes please."

The mist clung to Dan's hair in fine, cold droplets that tickled Phil's fingers as he threaded them gently through the brown tendrils. Dan's lips were chapped and red, rough against Phil's, but the kiss was soft and gentle.

It was cut off abruptly however by an interruption from down the hill.

"Well," Chris said. "And there I was thinking we were original and hipster with our romantic Valentine's Day destination of choice."


	9. OWLs

_Phil has exams, and Dan is neglected._

* * *

x

* * *

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smooth, sparkling lake; the satin green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze. June had arrived, but to the fifth years this meant only one thing: their OWLs were upon them at last.

The purposeful, feverish atmosphere had well and truly taken over Phil. He was in a daze of stress, his hand twitching involuntarily as he ate breakfast (sending his toast flying into the milk jug) as he tried to recall the wand movement for a summoning spell. PJ too was spending a lot of time muttering to himself, pouring over Arithmancy equations that made Phil feel physically sick. Carrie had developed an annoying and slightly terrifying habit of interrogating everyone she met about their revision practices.

"How many hours do you think you're doing a day?" She demanded of Phil and Chris as they queued outside Herbology, a manic gleam in her eyes.

"I dunno," Chris stammered. "A few?"

"More or less than eight?"

"Less, I guess." Said Chris, looking slightly alarmed.

"I'm doing eight," said Carrie, tugging somewhat manically at her hair. "Eight or nine. I'm getting an hour in before breakfast every day. Eight's my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. Not so good on Tuesday, only seven. Then on Wednesday-"

Thankfully she was cut off as Professor Sprout ushered them into the Greenhouse. Herbology was Phil's favourite lesson, but he still found himself staring wistfully out through the glass at the third years relaxing by the lake. He wondered if Dan was with them. Phil's stomach twisted uncomfortably. He knew he'd been neglecting Dan lately, brushing past him with a glazed look in his eye, listening to him talk for several minutes before realising he'd completely zoned out thinking about Cheering Charms. Dan had been understanding of course, making an effort to ensure Phil didn't feel guilty, but with all his closest friends in fifth year Phil knew this must be a hard blow to Dan. He sighed into his bubotuber pus. He longed more than anything to be lazing out in the sunshine in Dan's arms, perhaps with a flask of cool pumpkin juice and something sweet.

"Lester. You nearly had my eye out! Concentrate." Professor Sprout bustled past disapprovingly as Phil muttered a '_sorry_'.

On his left, Chris wasn't doing much better. He looked half asleep, his eyelids drooping, as he prodded repetitively at the plant.

"Er, you know, that's just a leaf. The swellings are a bit lower down. There you go."

Chris sighed sadly, staring forlorn at the little puddle of yellow-green pus he had completely failed to collect. It was hissing angrily as it slowly burnt through the table. Phil and Chris watched it go with another sigh.

* * *

x

* * *

They spread their books out in the shade of the Beech tree and settled into sitting positions while Dan lay back in the long grass, staring somewhat smugly up at the blue sky.

Chris stared at him longingly. "I think we should get rid of Dan. He's definitely not good motivation for study."

"Yes," Phil said irritably, turning a page of intermediate transfiguration and glaring at a series of diagrams depicting and owl turning into a pair of overalls. "He's going all brown as well while we're cooped up in revision classes. He looks like a bloody golden panda."

Dan rolled over, grinning impishly up at Phil through dark lashes. The sun danced off his eyes reflecting flecks of gold and Phil sighed dramatically.

"Just you wait. Two years will wipe that smile off your face."

Dan didn't say anything, he just rolled again till his head was nestled comfortably in Phil's lap. Phil let out a moan of frustration. "Stop it! I can't do anything with you there. Go sit on the other side of the tree and make a daisy chain or something."

Dan pouted, sitting up and brushing grass out of his hair. "That's mean. Mr grumpy face." Playfully, Dan lifted up the corners of Phil's mouth into a smile, but Phil batted his hands away.

"Seriously Dan," He sighed. "I need to do this. The exam's literally tomorrow."

Dan's face fell, but he struggled quickly to pull a smile back onto his lips. "Alright. I'll read a book. I promise I won't say anything. I'll sunbathe."

Phil rolled his eyes. "We're in the shade here, you will literally have to go on the other side of the tree."

"That's alright," Dan shrugged, feigning a sob. "I know when I'm not wanted."

"Yeah, piss off Dan." Chris muttered, plunging his fist angrily into the soil as the wind blew the pages of his book and lost his place.

Dan slouched miserably off out of sight and slumped down with his back against the tree, his eyes following the gentle shifting and glittering of the lake. He could still see his friends, though they paid no attention to him, and he began absentmindedly to pick daisies.

Chris was reading two years-worth of charms notes with his fingers in his ears, his lips moving silently. Phil was lying flat on his back in the grass, reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm while PJ checked it against _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5;_ while Carrie and Charlie, who were practising basic Locomotion Charms, were making their pencil cases race each other across the lawn.

As the sun began to fade into the trees, Dan crept slowly back to Phil's side. Phil flashed him a weary smile of acknowledgement and, gently, Dan slipped a daisy crown onto Phil's head.

Phil's puckered into a soft 'o' and he let his books slip from his hands as he pulled Dan into his arms. "Oh god," he muttered," I hate exams."

"Me too." Dan mumbled.

Phil closed his eyes as he buried his face in Dan's warm hair. Across the circle, PJ looked up and his lips spread into a smile. He followed Phil's lead and abandoned his notes, turning instead to Chris and wrapping his arms around his waist until his protests faded away into silence. Carrie and Charlie exchanged a glance before hugging too, stretching out with almost audible creaks and winces of pain.

With Dan's arms warm and tight against his back, Phil felt calmer than he had in weeks.

* * *

x

* * *

Dinner was a subdued affair. Chris and PJ did not talk much, but ate like ravenous lions having studied hard all day. The evening as a whole was uncomfortable, with everyone trying to do some last minute revision but nobody seemed to be getting very far. Phil went to bed early but then lay awake for what felt like hours. He wished more than ever now that he and Dan shared a dormitory, as he was sure he'd find it a lot easier to slip into slumber with Dan's warmth up against him.

None of the fifth years talked very much at breakfast the next day, either. Carrie was practicing incantations under her breath will the salt cellar in front of her twitched; Charlie was reading Achievements in Charming so fast that his eyes appeared blurred; and Chris kept dropping his knife and fork and knocking over the marmalade. Phil chewed his lip and tried to force his churning stomach to accept some toast. His face was drawn and his skin pale, and all down the tables were matching, purple shadows under hundreds of tired eyes. Phil was just giving up on the toast when a pair of warm, slightly damp arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"You okay?" Dan murmured.

His hair was still wet from the shower and he smelled like summer fruits. Phil breathed in gratefully, shuffling up and pulling Dan down onto the bench beside him. "Better now. I just want it all to be over really."

"Won't be long, you're amazing. You'll be fine I promise." Dan risked a quick peck on Phil's cheek, and Phil smiled.

"You're all soggy. Wish I'd had time for a nice, relaxing bath or something."

Dan smiled sympathetically. "Just think of the celebrations when it's all done."

"Yeah, I guess," Phil sighed. "None of that seems super important though because then it'll be too late. What I really should be looking forward too is the feeling of elation when I open my twenty O's in July."

"Can you even do twenty OWLs?" Dan asked with a snigger.

"God, no. Can you imagine? I'd rather gouge my own eyeballs out with this spoon."

* * *

The students filed out of the Great Hall and those taking exams milled around the Entrance Hall while the tables were set out. Dan stayed with Phil as long as he could, before pulling him into a tight hug and sprinting off to class. Phil couldn't help feeling incredibly small and helpless without him. Some students clutched lucky dolls or charms, and Phil wished he could have had Dan in there with him, cuddled up on his lap, warm and close.

* * *

"Well, that wasn't too bad, was it?" PJ said bracingly in the Entrance Hall two hours later. "Did you put in the counter charm for Hiccoughs? For twenty-three? I might have gone completely off track there I was just running out of time and panicking."

"No, I didn't," Phil said alarmed. "That sounds a lot more sensible than what I put though. Oh god, you're probably right you know. That was like eight marks."

"Don't worry," Chris said cheerfully. "I wrote about a soothing draft for ten minutes before remembering it's a potion."

The fifth-years ate lunch with the rest of the school then trooped off to the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. As small groups of students were called forwards in alphabetical order, those left behind muttered incantations and practiced wand movements, occasionally poking each other in the back or eye by mistake. Phil was just running through Cheering Charms with PJ when he noticed Dan slip in a back door.

"Dan," he whispered. "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"Shh," Dan grinned. "Don't draw attention to it. I came to give you this."

It was a tiny, knitted lion with mane of something soft and gold. Phil's lips spread into a grin that pushed away at the anxiety that had been stretched across his chest for so long.

"I know it's a bit silly," Dan continued. "But I wanted to give you like a good luck charm or something, you know, because it's a bit hot for the scarf now. And I noticed you didn't have anything. Sorry it's late, it was way more complicated than I thought I would be and I skipped lunch to get it finished in time."

"It's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Shut up."

"You're the best."

"Good luck though, really. You'll be amazing. Squeeze him if you're scared. He shouldn't break, have you got a name for him?"

"I'm going to call him lion."

"Groundbreaking."

"Thank you. I love you a lot."

"I love you more. I should probably go before I get expelled."

Phil stuffed the lion into his robes before pulling Dan into a hug and whispering another thank you into his hair.

"Kendall." Was called and they wished him luck as Dan slipped out of the chamber. In what felt like just a few seconds, 'Lester' and 'Liguori' were read out and they gave each other a quick squeeze before heading out into the hall.

"Good afternoon, Philip Lester is it? Not to worry, nothing too tricky today." The examiner was small and wizened, and he had a comforting twinkle in his eyes. "If you could start by taking this egg cup and making it do a few cartwheels for me."

* * *

All in all it went better than expected. Chris was at the table next to him throughout and Phil kept casting sneaky glances across to see how he was doing. There was a mild disruption about ten minutes in however when the Hedgehog Chris was supposed to be enlarging swelled suddenly and alarmingly, and Phil was nearly trampled by eight feet of very angry prickles.

Outside the exam the atmosphere was mostly of relief, and it seemed that everyone had been mostly successful in their endeavours. Katie Bell had caused a dinner plate to mutate into a large potato and a Slytherin boy had been chased out of the hall in tears by a colony of bats that had erupted out of his wand; but on the most part everything had gone to plan. PJ didn't seem to have made a single mistake, but he was reluctant to admit this.

"Nah, I bet I got the colour change wrong. I heard purple but I'm starting to think she might actually have said red."

Chris rolled his eyes. "That's like, one mark at most. Face it – you're a genius. I mean, you are in Ravenclaw after all."

PJ shook his head again. "You know me though, the theory paper will have been a disaster."

They continued this discussion out on to the grounds and Phil began immediately to search the throngs of students for Dan. The hands that linked comfortably together in front of him were making him jealous, and he wished more than ever that Dan was in his year – not least because he was feeling incredibly guilty for abandoning him so much recently, which wasn't really needed on top of all the exam stress. Dan was under their favourite tree, curled up apparently asleep with a book over his head. Phil smiled. He crept forwards slowly, before launching himself at the skinny boy and rolling him over into the grass.

Dan's eyes were wide with alarm, his face just a few centimetres from Phil's grin. "Jesus Christ Phil. A gentle poke would have been sufficient. I'm guessing it went well then?"

Phil shrugged, burying his face into Dan's robes. "S'alright I guess. Miss you though. Lion helped."

"Not long now though, just these two weeks and it's all over and I get my friends back." Dan grinned.

Phil's face fell a little. "Has it been awful? Not having us around so much?"

Dan shook his head. "I'm used to it. It's not so bad, I've been flying a lot."

"When the exams are over will you teach me to fly?"

"Yeah, of course. This is new. Why the sudden interest?"

"I spent that whole theory paper watching the Ravenclaw team train out the window. And I want an excuse to spend more time with you."

Dan blushed, touched. "You don't need an excuse, silly. The exams aren't your fault and I totally get it. You know me, I'm perfectly happy just to sit in silence while you do your work. I can probably test you on some stuff too; don't worry Philip, I don't hate you for not wanting to fail all your exams. Just think, in two years you'll be doing your Newts and I'll be doing my OWLs. What a pair we'll be."

Phil grinned. In truth, he hadn't really thought that far ahead, but Dan painted a comfortable vision of their immediate future at Hogwarts. "I will tutor you and you can carry me to my exams when I'm too tired to walk."

"Sounds like a deal."

* * *

x

* * *

There was no time to relax however, as they delved straight into Transfiguration prep for the next day. Phil wasted a good half hour frantically looking up a counter curse after accidentally transfiguring Dan's ears into two large teapots.

His Herbology exam on Wednesday was a welcome respite, and he spent a peaceful hour caring for a fanged geranium. Defence Against the Dark Arts was underwhelming after so many years of studying violent curses and attacking spells, but at least there were no limbs lost. On Friday he had the day off while PJ sat Arithmancy, and he found Dan waiting for him as he headed down for breakfast.

"Hey, I promise I won't say anything if you need to revise. I've only got one lesson today and I don't fancy spending another day in the library." Dan said quickly.

"No, that's fine don't worry," Phil reassured him. "Chris and I don't have any exams anyway. PJ's completely stressing out though, Chris is giving him a massage in a broom cupboard."

Dan raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

"So, how you feeling?"

"A bit dead really." Phil admitted.

"I think you need a bit of a break. Like, it's better to go in healthy than go in knowing everything but so stressed out you don't write any of it down."

"What do you suggest?" Phil asked.

"I dunno, really. How about we go somewhere and just relax for a bit? You could always take your books with you and do a little bit every now and then."

Phil nodded, somewhat guiltily pushing his exam timetable back in his bag. "Yeah. I could do with a nap."

They ended up in the forest, slipping into the shadow of trees under cover of the chaos that was the Care of Magical Creatures exam. The sunlight filtered easily down through the canopy, dappling the earth with pools of gold, shifting and dancing as the wind rustled the leaves. The trees relaxed Phil almost immediately and he smiled happily, taking a big gulp of fresh air. It felt good in his lungs after so many dusty books and cramped classrooms. Dan's fingers were laced lightly between his own and they walked slowly and easily. They found a sunlit glade where patches of flowers grew in clumps on the forest floor, splashes of colour amongst the moss and bracken. Tiny white wood anemones and summer violets. They sat down amongst the gnarled roots of an old oak tree.

Phil lay down with his head on Dan's lap and closed his eyes, his hands resting on his chest. Dan's hands tangled in his hair. His slender fingers traced the contours of Phil's jaws and drifted over the arches of his lips. Phil's cheekbones protruded gently and Dan's fingers dipped and caressed, falling down his neck and over the smooth indentation under his collar bones. Phil's breathing was slow and relaxed, and Dan smiled as he slipped into a peaceful slumber on his lap, his dark lashes fluttering as he breathed.

After a while of watching Phil sleep, Dan took out his wand, absentmindedly sending falling petals tumbling over one another and floating in the breath. They spun in a heart then flew up together in a flurry of yellow and white. He caught them before the hit the ground and sent them up again, fluttering amongst the leaves and casting dancing shadows on the ground. They spiralled into a tiny tornado before dispersing, hovering motionless in the glade until, with a flick of his wand, Dan sent them shooting into the centre of the cloud to form a pulsating ball of colour. He added a touch of blue and purple to the mix, crafting first a face and then a sea of shifting, white topped waves on which a great galleon of yellow and gold sailed. The image exploded again like a firework, petals swirling and soaring until they were collected by a careful wand movement into hundreds of colourful spheres, almost like bubbles, floating and bobbing through the clearing.

Dan nearly dropped his wand in surprise as a tongue of blue flame shot up in the centre of each bubble. He looked down at Phil in surprise. He'd been so caught up in his game that he hadn't noticed Phil stir, wake and pull out his own wand.

Phil was smiling fondly up at him. "You're so cute when you're happy." He breathed.

Dan blushed crimson.

Gently, Phil brought the fluctuating bubbles down to where they lay, clustering around their intertwined figures in a haze of gold and blue light.

"Don't drop them," Dan smiled. "They're on fire now. Very dangerous."

Phil giggled. "Don't worry, you're safe with me. For now."

Phil pulled Dan down into the moss to lay beside him, staring up at the glowing petals. Dan was smiling and Phil was smiling at Dan's smile. "See, plants are cool."

"Not with all that fire around, these ones are hot." Dan said lamely, and Phil groaned.

"What's the matter?" Dan grinned. "Don't think I'll make it as a comedian? My stage name could be ComidiDan."

"Oh god," Phil laughed. "You're worse than Chris."

"Wow. That's harsh." Dan sniggered.

"You've stopped looking at the petals." Phil's lips twitched, and Dan turned curiously back to the sky.

While he'd been talking to Phil, the bubbles had rearranged themselves above his head and into letters bobbing gently in the sky that spelled out '_Phil loves Dan'_.

Dan's lips puckered into a smile and he sent a gust of wind to rearrange the names, but Phil was too quick for him, easily counteracting his spell. Dan glowered at him, casting his eyes around the glade. Grinning, he heaved a pile of sticks and logs violently into the air – showering the couple with mud and dirt – and crudely arranged them hanging haphazardly underneath Phil's bubbles to form the words 'Dan loves Phil more'.

Phil was not to be beaten so easily and with one, clean movement the twigs burst into brilliant rainbow flame as his lips touched Dan's.


	10. Luna

_A party and an apology_

x

The last exam was Astrology. It took place at midnight, and the moment it had finished a cheer went up that roused all the slumbering lower-years. Dan leapt out of his bed, shrugging off his pyjamas to reveal his clothes still on underneath. The boy in the four poster next to him raised his eyebrows in alarm.

"You can't be going to the party, surely? You didn't have any exams and besides, they'll have locked the castle doors. Only the fifth and seventh-years are allowed out."

Dan just grinned, adding a final flourish to his hair and sweeping out into the silent corridor. Phil was where he'd promised he'd be, and in no time Dan was swept along with the throng of excited chatter – his height allowing him to blend easily into the boisterous crowd of older students. Teachers ushered them quickly out the castle doors and towards the marquee positioned as far from the dormitories as possible.

Professor McGonagall stepped up onto a podium and pointed her wand at her throat. "Sonorous," she said, before addressing the crowd – her voice now booming easily over the jostling heads. "My congratulations to you all. You have worked incredibly hard over the past few months, and we are all so very proud of you. Now is not the time to worry about your results however; that will wait till July. Now is the time to celebrate. We ask only that you remain responsible and do not disturb the other years, either now or when returning to your dormitories. The curfew is four thirty, anyone attempting to disregard this curfew will be severely punished. We are allowing your party, but please, do not push it. Good night, and good luck."

* * *

x

* * *

Butterbeer flowed freely and everyone seemed too caught up in the celebrations to take much notice of the third year tag along, which suited Dan perfectly. Chris, with his seemingly endless supply of energy, was still dancing enthusiastically on the multi-coloured dance floor, his arms wind milling violently and nearly taking out a willowy seventh year as she passed with a tray of drinks. Phil and Carrie were arm in arm attempting to perfect an Irish jig while PJ and Dan sat comfortably up against one of the supporting pillars. PJ had attempted to rustle up a pair of chairs but seemed to be considerably more intoxicated than he'd originally assumed, and the three-legged, distorted hunks of wood lay pitifully out on the grass, abandoned under the moonlight.

"He's such an idiot." PJ said fondly, staring out at Chris as he flung his legs up in the air one after the other, hideously out of time with the music.

Dan smiled. "I'm going to have to agree with you there." Chris had overestimated a leap and lost his balance, toppling over to land in a tangled heap of long limbs on the floor. He sprung back up like a jack-in-the-box however, and in no time he was on the floor attempting the worm.

PJ snorted into his drink as Chris writhed towards him, a glazed grin in his eyes. Phil was returning too, out of breath and pink in the cheeks with Carrie, laughing, still on his arm.

"Beaten by the dance floor?" PJ smiled. "I'm disappointed."

"Nope," Chris pulled himself to his feet. "Just came to get you two lazy lumps. Come on, it's time to express yourselves!"

Chris pulled them both up by the hands and now it was Phil's turn to watch and laugh as Dan was spun in circles. At the height of his spin, Chris let go and sent Dan tumbling and reeling dizzily into the crowd. After apologizing profusely to the seventh years whose drinks he had spilled, Dan charged back on to the dancefloor with revenge in his eyes. Chris was dipping PJ dramatically, his eyes sparkling under the lanterns, and Dan clattered into the pair, tumbling them over with ease. Phil sniggered as they wrestled, while Carrie tsked. She tried several times to strike up a conversation with Phil, but he paid little attention to her and she got up again, annoyed, and headed back to the drinks table. She was filling her goblet with bubbling blue punch when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Suzie Spinner stood behind her, looking awkward.

"Hi," she began. "I know it's been a while. Listen, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for what happened. I get that sorry isn't going to cut it but I never said it and I haven't been able to forgive myself. I don't know what happened, something just came over me and I didn't care about anyone else – not even enough to think about Phil for, like, at least three days. And then it was too late, but I just want him to know that I am sorry. Really, truly I am. He didn't deserve that and I miss him. Will you tell him?"

Carrie bristled. "You can tell him yourself."

Suzie's doleful eyes turned downcast to the floor and her shoulders slumped, and Carrie softened, unable to remain cold when presented with such an explicit display of misery.

"Look," she sighed. "I'll tell him you spoke to me but I really don't think that's going to change the way he feels about it all. It's been way too long. He's over it all and he's moved on, you're months too late."

Suzie sighed, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "I want to talk to him. I mean it when I say I miss him. He was the sweetest person I've ever met, but like you say – it's too late. It took me too long to figure out how I felt." She paused for a moment, turning to the dance floor where Dan was attempting to teach Phil a shaky version of the Slytherin Slide. "Him and Dan, are they, are they serious? Phil always told me he was straight. Do you think it could just be a phase? Like a summer fling type thing?"

Carrie stiffened once more. "They've been together since Christmas holidays I think. Yes, they're serious. I don't think you're going to get Phil back, Suzie. You said it yourself – your relationship was on the rocks for ages. You didn't gel well together."

"We gelled perfectly!" Suzie said, offended. "You don't know anything about our relationship. Do you think we would have got together if we didn't get on? We fought, but so does every couple. It's a sign of a healthy relationship – not being prepared to put up with each other's shit. Putting your foot down every once in a while."

"Except with you it was every few minutes." Carrie said cuttingly.

Suzie narrowed her eyes. "I do believe you're jealous. I've always known you've have a crush on Phil, and now I'm gone you think you've got a chance. I bet Dan and Phil aren't even serious and you're just saying that to get rid of me. I've never liked you, Carrie Fletcher. You try too hard with your 'aren't I such a nice little princess' act. Driving everyone crazy with your fundraising for 'save the bloody squirrels' or whatever it is while there are real causes out there that desperately need money, saving lives and changing the world. Except we've been bullied into giving all our money to squirrels who were doing just fine without us. I will tell him. Just you wait."

Suzie flounced away, her pink dress rippling as she walked, her hair sleek and shiny under the canopy. Carrie glared after her, a stream of silent insults beaming from her eyes. She turned slowly back to where Dan and Phil were dancing, and she sighed.

* * *

x

* * *

"I lub you."

"I love you more."

"I love PJ."

"I love cake."

"I loooove Dan."

"I love me, too."

"Let's get married."

"I need to marry Phil. I can't marry you, Peej."

"No, you can't – Peej you're marrying me."

"Let's have eight babies."

"Or one baby with eight heads."

"That's an octopus."

"No it s'not,"

"Yes it is,"

"No, octopuses have eight legs. Or is it arms?"

"Octopuses. I think it's octopi, guys."

"Is it?"

"I don't know."

"Where's Carrie?"

"Dead."

"Oh, okay. Where's the castle?"

"I dunno. Are we not in the castle?"

"Dunno but I'm tired. Going to bed now, night guys."

"Where you going to bed?"

"Here?"

"Okay, me too. Night Chris."

"Night Peej."

"Night Dan. Wait, you're not Dan – you're Phil."

"No I'm not,"

"No not you, Phil."

"What?"

"Never mind. Night. Love you guys."

"Love you."

"Night."

* * *

x

x

* * *

Phil wasn't the only one who had end of year exams, but Dan was taking a considerably more lax view on his.

"Come on Dan," Phil sighed. "Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration. This is first year stuff."

Dan harrumphed dramatically. "Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. Fundamental principles for performing transfiguration, things which we have to earn ourselves. Food, money, life, love and knowledge."

Phil nodded approvingly. "So how do we get food?"

"It can be summoned if it's already been made, and you know where it is obviously. It can be multiplied and divided but that's about it."

"And which one's the most important?"

"Life. You can't wake up dead people, once you're dead you dead son."

Phil rolled his eyes. "You do know it, you're just too lazy to find it in your head. Okay, next: colour change. This one's easy I won't even be able to look at you if you don't get it. Wand movement?"

"Counter-clockwise loop, starting at the bottom of the thing."

"Incantation for decolourising something?"

"Absentia Pigmento."

"What about gold coins to silver?"

"Aurum Ad Argentum."

"Good job kiddo."

"I will punch you."

"Are you sure you can reach?"

"Hey! I'm like two inches shorter than you. Tops."

Phil patted Dan on the head with a wink, narrowly avoiding Dan's fist as he swung a playful punch.

"How long's it been since you dipped into Standard Book of Spells?" Phil grinned, cuddling back up to Dan's shoulder.

"Oh god. Do I really need to know the theory for all the simple spells?"

"They're the ones they ask, remember – they're not trying to find out how well you revise, they're trying to find out whether or not you can sensibly move up to the next year. I've done this four times now, I am a pro at end-of-years."

"Okay," said Dan with a sigh. "Hit me."

Phil, of course, obliged, and Dan swore moodily at him. With a chuckle, Phil turned back to his rather battered textbook and flicked it open. "Which one's it gonna be? Will you be unlocking the secrets of Alohamora? Repairing your knowledge with a quick Reparo?" A grin stretched over Phil's face at the sight of Dan's pained expression. "Soaring to victory with help from Wingardium Leviosa? Or softening the blow of failure with Spongify?"

Dan groaned, covering his face with his hands. Phil only continued gleefully.

"Will Res Momentum send you charging into the lead? Your bond to the third year severed with a quick Diffindo? Sealed into fourth year with Colloportus?"

"The only spell I need right now is Avada Kedavra." Dan muttered darkly.

* * *

He was saved, if only momentarily, by the arrival of Phil's owl Eric. Dan ran his fingers gently through the bird's soft feathers while Phil read a letter from his parents, congratulating him on completing his exams. Eric hooted happily, pressing the soft down of his belly into Dan's fingers, his eyes half closed. Dan smiled. "I wish I had an owl," he said, rubbing the owl's belly. "Pets are really cool. It's like a cuddly, warm, actual life in your arms and it's yours to care for and cherish. Much better than plants."

Phil looked up at him thoughtfully. "Why don't you get one then?"

Dan shrugged. "They're expensive. And I live in a muggle town remember, a pet owl is a bit conspicuous."

Phil watched the way Dan cradled Eric fondly in his arms, a half smile playing across his lips.

* * *

x

* * *

"Close your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"I have a surprise for you. A present."

"What do you mean a present? It's not my birthday."

"No, but we haven't figured out if we can meet up over the summer yet so I might miss it. Also I was a terrible boyfriend all through exams and I wanted to say sorry. Now close your eyes."

"I feel like you're going to murder me or something."

"I think I would probably try a bit harder to be subtle if that was my intention. Walk forwards."

"Where are we going?"

"Just round the corner. That's just Chris, don't panic. Also PJ. Sorry about your foot. Okay. Stop. Sit."

"Phil…"

"Move your hands. I need to put it on your lap."

"Phil… -Oh."

"Open your eyes."

Dan stared down at the tiny black kitten pawing nervously at his legs. "_Oh._" He said again.

"Do you like her?" Phil asked anxiously. "You said you wanted an animal but an owl wouldn't be practical, and muggles have cats right?"

"She's perfect," Dan beamed. "How old is she?"

"Just a couple of months. She's probably a lot smarter than muggle cats, but I don't know I've never met one."

"Does she have a name?" Dan asked, gently stroking the small kitten's silky fur and allowing her to smell his fingers, her tongue warm and wet against his skin.

"Not yet. You can name her."

"That's way too much responsibility. You'll have to help me."

"She's yours, it's your job. You don't have to think of one straight away."

"Where did you get her?"

"Hogsmeade. She was the runt of the litter, but I think she was the best one there – have you seen her eyes? They're unusual, don't you think, for a cat?"

The kitten's eyes were a pale, translucent blue that stared beseechingly up at Dan, contrasting sharply against the jet-black fur. "She's beautiful," he smiled. The kitten mewled in response, licking his fingers and rubbing her tiny body against his arm.

They were in the Hufflepuff common room. It was late, well past midnight, and the room was dark and abandoned bar the four boys huddled round the embers of the dying fire. Moonlight filled the room. It cast shadows over the shapes of tables and chairs and abandoned belongings strewn across the room with a comfortable homeliness. A game of gobstones on one table and a pack of cards. A summer cloak hung over the back of a chair. A yellow and black scarf wound around a pillar. Dan's eyes were drawn however to the window, where the black night was bathed in silver light. Stars twinkled peacefully and the moon was full. The kitten on his lap followed the direction of his gaze, her eyes as glowing and pale as the moon she stared at. Dan too was looking at the white orb, and he smiled suddenly.

"I have a name," he turned to the small cat and she fixed him with her wide eyes. "Luna."

PJ smiled at him, reaching over stroke the velvet of the cat's ears. "That's a good name. The night is on her fur and the moon is in her eyes. When we got her it was raining, and the water droplets sparkled like stars all over her fur."

Dan blushed. "There's another reason, too. When I was in first year there was a girl called Luna in Ravenclaw – she was the only person who ever tried to speak to me. I was muggleborn, coming to Hogwarts was scary and she helped. She was really nice. She's in the year above now though obviously, so I haven't spoken to her since the beginning of second year."

Dan took a deep breath. "By the way, I should probably tell you the reason I had to retake my second year. It's kinda embarrassing, but everyone thinking I was just really stupid is worse. The only reason I kept it secret is because I was in Slytherin, and well basically we ran out of money massively halfway through my second year. My parents wrote to me and told me they'd have to sell the house if I wanted to stay, so I left – I told the school I was really sick. They kept writing to me though, asking when I was coming back, and eventually I just told them I'd decided that magic wasn't for me and I was dropping out. It was awful. I thought it was all over, but then Professor McGonagall rung me up on our muggle house phone. It was crazy. She wanted to know why I'd dropped out, what they'd missed and if they could help me and you know McGonagall, you can't lie to her. So I told her and then she told me I was an idiot. Because Hogwarts have a trust fund for kids who can't afford stuff and money was no excuse and if I wasn't on the train again in September she'd come to my house and drag me to school herself. Obviously I'd missed most of the year though so I had to retake which sucked a lot. The only reason I hadn't told the truth was because I already get so much stick about my parents, it would have been the icing on the cake. But that's why I didn't have any friends – because originally I hung out with Luna and then everyone thought I'd flunked a whole year." Dan shrugged. "So yeah, I'm calling her Luna.

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan's shoulders, burying his face into Dan's hair. "It's a pretty name. And you have us now."

Dan nodded happily. "I have you. And now I have Luna again, too."


End file.
